


Padfoot And Hound

by SayItAll



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Naruto
Genre: Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Angst, Azkaban, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Crossover, Dementors, Dimensional Travel, Dogs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hatake Kakashi Needs a Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Hatake Kakashi, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, POV Hatake Kakashi, POV Sirius Black, Pack, Post-Sirius Black in Azkaban, Sirius Black Deserves Better, Sirius Black Needs a Hug, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:36:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 88,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28146954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SayItAll/pseuds/SayItAll
Summary: A day after the Kyuubi-attack, the ANBU Hound wakes up in 1993's England, where he finds a half-starved dog at the coast. It's Padfoot's lucky day.Sirius tries to evade capture, find his godson and the traitor, and maybe also prove his innocence. Kakashi just wants to find his way home from this odd country that does not speak his language nor even write in his alphabet.
Relationships: (Past) Hatake Kakashi & Team Minato, (Past) Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter & Lily Evans Potter, Hatake Kakashi & Kakashi's Ninken, Sirius Black & Harry Potter, Sirius Black & Hatake Kakashi, Sirius Black & Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin
Comments: 485
Kudos: 863
Collections: Restless Wonders





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> What was I thinking!?  
> This is my first time ever writing a crossover fanfiction. But apparently, once I have an idea in my head, it does not want to leave… I do not have a beta reader (yet), so I’m open for anybody who wants to give it a try. Also posting schedule will be a bit all over the place. I write in bouts, so there might be breaks in between chapters. However, I’ll try to keep some regularity going. It also (I am honest) depends a bit on how well this is received.
> 
> Normally I don’t read a lot of Crossover – never mind write it – but I recently saw a few Naruto X Harry Potter Crossovers which worked surprisingly well. I’ve also only recently realized how remarkably similar Sirius and Kakashi are. Two dog-people who have lost their friends, who blame themselves for their deaths, who go through depression and loneliness before they can find a new pack. There are ridiculous little similarities, like for example that both take 12 years until they finally get to meet the orphaned sons of their lost loved ones again. After that, I just had to throw them together and see where it went. I’m not sure yet, where it goes exactly, it’s a write in progress.
> 
> This is a bit of a budding Adventure between Fresh-out-of-Askaban Sirius and 14-year-old post-Kyuubi-attack Kakashi. Right, Kakashi is still a kid so I don’t intend to turn this into a slash fic. Also, I’m not 100% certain yet, but I definitely think about putting Kakashi into Hogwarts for a few months. What makes this crossover so exciting for me, is not just how similar they are, but also how strikingly different the morals of their worlds are. Sirius himself has suffered tremendously, but that aside, the world of Naruto is a much more brutal, unforgiving and cruel one. Therefore, Kakashi is in many ways much more screwed up than anybody Sirius’ has ever met. I want to challenge Sirius’ morality. I want him to question what makes a good person. The morality of the world of Harry Potter is more black-and-white one, compared to Naruto’s shades of grey. As for Kakashi… He’s a 14-year-old who needs a lot of cuddles.
> 
> I decided to let this all play out during Prisoner of Azkaban, not only because I think that’s the most exciting year for Sirius, but also because that way I can mostly avoid the Voldemort/Death Eater-conflict. I think Kakashi (even as a teenager) is quite a powerhouse and would probably deal with Voldemort rather easily. Helping Sirius is a much more difficult task.
> 
> I don’t use the Trigger Warnings because I’m not quite sure if any of them apply quite yet. There is of course ample death in the backstories of both characters, but I’m not sure if it warrants a TW yet. Both Kakashi and Sirius have to deal with depression, there will be angst and hurt so be prepared for that, I guess. If anything surprisingly brutal or problematic happens, I’ll give a TW before the chapter.
> 
> And now have fun.

Minato-sensei! Kushina-nee! Where were they? He had to find them, he had to find them, now! And Naruto. Baby-Naruto, was he already born? Had everything gone well?

Stupid, stupid, useless question. The Kyuubi somehow got free, of course it hadn’t gone well. Something must have happened. Kakashi knew it. He knew it in his heart! And yet…

Yet, he hoped to find them unharmed. This was Minato-sensei after all. Every shinobi in Konoha – he was sure – had seen the battle rage over the village. They had seen how Minato protected them from sheer destruction. And none had seen him die. Kakashi was sure of it. His sensei had not died. Neither had Kushina – she can’t have!

Don’t be naïve. You’re not a child anymore. She’s the Jinchuriki. When the Bijuu is extracted, the Jinchuriki dies.

He knew that. Kushina-nee was the Kyuubi’s Jinchuriki. The demon beast was sealed within her. And yet, Kakashi had clearly seen it rampage through the village, the nine-tailed fox. A demon made of swirling red chakra destroying everything in its wake.

Kakashi jumped from roof top to roof top. He had separated from the group of his peers where they stood hidden away from the beast under order to stay safe – as they were the young generation supposed to lead the village into the future. But how could he stay back, how could he not fight, when his sensei, his sensei’s wife and their unborn child were in danger? The only family he still had, the only remnants of a team that was dead dead dead. Dead, because of him. Because Kakashi had failed them – caused their deaths – killed them. The only one who had survived was Minato-sensei. So, there was no way Kakashi could just stay back.

His left eye was itching. Obito’s eye.

He knew where Kushina was supposed to give birth. The hidden away shelter where sealing specialists and medical ninja had prepared the safest way for her to give birth without breaking the Kyuubi’s seal. Clearly something had gone wrong. Clearly all these specialists had failed. The Kyuubi had broken free, was rampaging in the city. And then he was gone…

He was gone now. The fight was over. One second the beast stood gigantic and deadly over their village, fighting his sensei and the next it was gone. And his sensei was gone with it. What had happened?

The cold night air made his throat ache from the effort of… running? Or was that his panic that made him pant? Surely, he was not that exhausted?

Kakashi was almost there now. Just out of the village and through a small patch of woods into the clearing—

Obito’s eye was itching behind the headband that kept it hidden from sight…

He had not seen it! He had not seen it! Not with the Sharingan. And yet, Minato’s and Kushina’s dying moments were forever edged into his mind. In clear detail. The Kyuubi’s fang had ripped their backs and stomachs open, blood dripping everywhere. When Kakashi found them, the beast was already gone and his sensei and Kushina-nee lay embracing each other taking their final breath, right next to the wailing baby boy.

*******

“I cannot allow that, I’m afraid.” The Hokage’s voice rang sympathetic but no less final. “He is the Yellow Flash’s child. He will have enemies. The best way to protect him would be to keep his identity safe.”

“I can keep him safe,” Kakashi replied in a steady tone, although he felt anything but steady. He had not felt steady since Minato-sensei had died. Minato and Kushina both. Leaving Naruto an orphan. “I’m ANBU.”

The third Hokage’s eyes rested on him with a sort of regretful pity that made Kakashi sick with nausea. “Exactly, you are ANBU. Your obligations lay elsewhere.”

“Then I retire,” he said quickly. “Put me back on regular duty.” He had no interest in that. ANBU was where he belonged now. He had a new team there. They called him Friend-killer and didn’t see him as much more than a young upstart child, but this was where he belonged. This was where he fit in. He brought nothing but death, so where else but in the darkest part of the shinobi world would he belong in? The mundane Jonin duties… that meant he’d get a different team. One with real names instead of code names, with faces instead of masks. A bunch of young Chunin with wide eyes, naïve and bright with dreams. It would mean that sooner or later the Hokage would assign a Genin team to him. Children who’d look up to him for guidance… He had no interest in that, but he would accept it for the young child who – in a different universe – might have been his brother.

“Kakashi…” The Hokage shook his head. “You’re only fourteen.”

Kakashi’s hands balled into fists. “I’m old enough,” he insisted, “old enough to—” To what? To fight in a war? To kill? To be killed?

None of that qualified him to raise a child. He didn’t know the first thing about raising a child. What was he thinking? He didn’t even like children. He hadn’t gotten along with them when he was one himself, and he surely didn’t understand them any better now. Never mind who he was. He brought nothing but death to those he loved. What did he want with Naruto? He’d destroy him!

He felt suddenly selfish. This was his sensei’s kid, and Kakashi was just a step away from ruining his life. Because that was what he would do inevitably. Instead of asking to raise the child, he should ask to be as far away from him as possible.

“I understand,” he finally relented his fists opening again. His hands felt empty. He felt empty. “I… Please excuse my…” But he did not find the words.

The hokage’s eyes still were upon him with that same pity and understanding. “I’m sorry, Kakashi. When he gets older, you will get to know Naruto.”

But Kakashi shook his head. When Naruto was old enough to become a shinobi himself… Kakashi should stay far away from him – preferably he would be dead then. What should he do for twelve more years? There was nothing left. Nobody.

Obito’s eye was itching. It didn’t stop itching. It hadn’t stopped since Minato-sensei’s death. Or maybe since Rin’s?

“Take some time off, boy,” the Hokage said.

Kakashi wanted to object, but it hadn’t been a mere suggestion. The hokage’s voice hadn’t quite carried the authority for an order either. But still… Kakashi was nothing if not a dutiful shinobi. He would do as he was told. “What should I do?” he asked instead.

The old man looked back at him with a sad frown on his forehead. “Maybe you can spend some time with young Guy? I’m sure he’s already looking for you.” At Kakashi’s grimace, he continued, “or help rebuilding the village.”

The second suggestion sounded nice, Kakashi thought. He could help rebuild. Kakashi had been trained for war, for assassinations and sabotage, for quiet infiltration or espionage and the odd security guard mission. Rebuilding his home sounded like a nice change. Peaceful, now that the war had finally ended.

“Thank you, sir.” He hadn’t asked for vacation. He didn’t want it. But it was proper manners to show gratitude for it anyway.

As he left the hokage building he was absentmindedly scratching the cloth of his headband where it covered the eye.

“DYNAMIC—”

He ducked under Guy’s attack with little effort. The boy had been waiting outside the hokage building as it seemed.

“You’re always so cool, my eternal rival.” Guy’s voice was rich with conviction and a sort of challenging admiration. “Fight me!”

“Not now,” Kakashi said unimpressed. With his hands in his pockets he strolled past the boy and towards the main street of Konohagakure.

“It’s 17 to 11 currently, your lead” Guy declared quickly catching up to him. “You won the last four matches. But I’ve been training hard, and today is my—”

“Not today, Guy,” Kakashi interrupted him. He didn’t even find the energy to be annoyed at Guy’s antics.

Obito’s eye was itching.

“Come on, my rival!” Guy pleaded.

Guy put a hand on his shoulder, trying to make Kakashi look at him. He was all smiles and bushy eyebrows and that horrendous green jumpsuit. Kakashi knew he could not win this. If nothing else, that was the one aspect he could never beat Guy at – and he didn’t even know if Guy in his constant pursuit to find things he was better at than Kakashi, ever considered that his stubbornness and tenacity was just that. There was no way to appease him, other than to give in.

Shrugging his shoulders, Kakashi stopped, then looked around. “Okay. On three. Whoever arrives atop the Hokage Monument first wins.”

Guy stared at him, then his grin broadened even further, widening to fill his entire face. His eyes sparkled with excitement. “That’s a worthy challenge my eternal rival! Give the countdown.” Kakashi felt a little guilty.

Kakashi readied himself. “Three – Two – One.” He made two steps, and then he stopped. Guy was already off. Not two meters from where they ha started, Kakashi came to a complete halt only able to see the cloud of dust settle behind Guy.

He had no energy for this. He could not do this. Not now, and truth be told, he hadn’t felt any excitement or rush in these challenges ever since Rin… Occasionally he still did them for Guy, but there was nothing in them for Kakashi anymore. Before, when they were children, Kakashi had been surprised, mildly annoyed but also somewhat proud at being considered a rival to his peers. Later after his father’s death, he had only seen these challenges as an annoyance and then, after Obito’s death, he had started to make an effort. Obito’s death had left him with an intense wish to connect. And Guy made it easy to do just that. It had even been fun at times, no matter how unimpressed he liked to act.

But now…

There was a disconnect. He could not do this anymore. He could not play these games, race Guy to the Hokage mountain or fight him in a battle of brawn or wit and pretend like it mattered at all who won. No matter who arrived at the top of the mountain first, Minato-sensei, Kushina-nee, Rin and Obito, his parents they would still be dead. Naruto would stay an orphan. What was the point? And what was the point in connecting with Guy, if in the end he would end up dead like the others. This wide-eyed, bright eyed excitement, Kakashi could not stand it. He would destroy it.

Guy was his own age and yet he seemed so young. Still chasing his dreams.

Kakashi had no dreams to chase.

And Obito’s eye was still itching.

******

For just a moment he had been enticed to go see Naruto. Just once, just to make sure he was alright and taken care of. But then he caught himself. Shaking his head, Kakashi’s feet carried him through the streets of the destroyed village without him paying much attention.

He froze when he realized where they had led him. Home… He had not been back here for years. What point was there in an empty home? Still, he did not turn around. Instead, he entered the old Hatake house. His father’s house. “I’m home,” he called out to the empty rooms. There was no reply apart from the creaking of the old floorboards below his feet. A layer of dust covered everything. He could see clouds of it puff up from under his feet. Maybe that was the reason, he chose to keep his shoes on. He did not want to stay here. He didn’t even know what he was doing here.

Curiously, as if there was anything for him to find, he made his way through the rooms. The kitchen, the old living room, his own room much smaller. He pushed the doors to his father’s bedroom open, but he never stepped inside. Then he stood in front of the study. Obito’s eye was itching.

The room was empty. There in the center of it, he could see him, slumped over his own sword, blood pooling under the body. No, the room was empty. No body, no blood, clean like the last time he had seen it. Blood on the Tatami mats…No!

Obito’s eye… Kakashi clutched his hand over the covered eye. It hurt! His vision was warping, twisting, then he saw black. He was falling.

*****

“He’s in Hogwarts.” He’s been saying it like a mantra for days now. He’s in Hogwarts. Peter was in Hogwarts. The rat. Harry and Peter both. The boy was in danger.

“He’s in Hogwarts.”

Sirius had to go. He had to protect his godson. The only family he had left. The only one who had not forsaken him. No…

You don’t know that. He might have. If they told him about you, he’ll hate you like the rest of them. He won’t want to have anything to do with you.

Did it matter? So what if the boy hated him? Sirius still had to protect him. Who else would be there to do that? Who else would even know about the rat hiding away in Hogwarts waiting for the chance to strike? Nobody! Sirius was the only one who knew and no matter what Harry thought of him, no matter what would happen to him, he would protect his godson.

It was what he should have done all along. And yet, Sirius hadn’t done anything for the boy. His parents, James and Lily, they’d wanted him to take care of their son in case something happened to him. They’d wanted him to raise Harry. And what had Sirius done? After all that James had done for him – his best friend, his brother – Sirius was the reason they were dead now. Sure, Peter had betrayed them, Peter had sold them out to Voldemort, yet it’d been Sirius who suggested to make Peter their secret keeper. And he’d felt so smart about it.

They’d think it was me. They’d have hunted me down, interrogated me, tortured me. And meanwhile, Peter could hide away, the Potters would be safe.

He’d felt so smart. Like he’d fooled them all. Yet, he’d been the fool. They were dead because of him. He might have just as well done the deed himself.

Maybe that was the reason why he’d so quietly accepted his fate. Maybe that was the reason he’d been fine with Azkaban for so long. It was a form of repentance. And surely, it must’ve counted for something. When Moony came… That one time a year after his incarceration, he hadn’t even really tried to defend himself.

“I’m innocent.”

But his voice had been hollow and without conviction. What worth was it to be innocent when the guilt weighed on him, nonetheless. He was innocent of murder, innocent of treason, sure. His crime was being a fool and he had caused Lily and James’ death just as much as Peter the traitor and Voldemort the murderer. Without him—

He’d gone over that a dozen times. In Azkaban there was little to do other than suffering and lamenting the what-ifs. What was the point of it all? This endless self-pity? Rotting away in Azkaban, he hadn’t done Harry any good. Judging by the date, the boy had lived for two years with Peter in Hogwarts. Peter could have killed him anytime. Why he hadn’t done it already, Sirius didn’t know. Probably too coward. But at the first sign of his master’s comeback… Sirius was sure, at the first sign that the vile deed would bring him glory or his master’s mercy, Peter would do it. He’d kill the boy himself or betray him to Voldemort the way he had his parents.

“He’s in Hogwarts!” They both were. Hogwarts was, where he was needed.

Sirius stomach rumbled with hunger. He hadn’t eaten ever since he saw the article in the newspaper – the one that had informed him of Peter’s current hiding place, safely tucked away as the pet rat of one of the Weasley children. He hadn’t eaten so he’d fit through the bars. Already, right after he got his hands on the newspaper, he’d almost been there. Almost able to fit through, but not quite.

He should—

Before he could decide to try again, he noticed the frost creeping up the iron bars of his cell. Dementors… They were coming… They were coming.

_“Sirius! How could you! Lily and James” Peter’s voice in his head._

_He was stumbling through the ruins of the Potter’s home in Godric’s Hollow. They had to be safe! But he was too late. He knew he was too late, because he saw the ruins, the clear evidence of the attack, and he didn’t hear anybody fighting anymore. It was over. He was too late._

_He found James – his best friend, his brother, Prongs – down just at the foot of the stairs, crumbled half over it, and then carelessly pushed to the side. His torso hung between the bars of the handrail; his legs splayed wide apart over the white tile floor. Sirius’ vision was blurring from hysteric tears as he tried to pull his best friend out of the awkward position. It was demeaning, like he’d just been thrown away like trash. James was no trash! He was the most magnificent human being Sirius had ever met. He deserved better. He deserved all the happiness in the world, he deserved for his family to be healthy and whole!_

_His family… The sight of his best friend had made Sirius forget almost all else. He could not help James, he knew. James was dead, and with his feeble hands and blurred vision, Sirius was even failing at freeing him off his demeaning position. Lily might still be alive – Harry… James would kick his ass, if he’d ever find out, Sirius hadn’t looked for them first. James… wouldn’t ever do anything anymore._

_He found Lily in the nursery. Unlike James, she was laid out on the floor, her eyes closed already. She looked asleep. She looked peaceful. She looked as if she’d been laid to rest respectfully, not haphazardly thrown away like James. In fact, she looked fine. So much so, that Sirius didn’t think she was dead at all, despite the pallor of her skin. He checked her pulse. Checked her breathing. His hands were trembling so hard. Desperately, he pulled his wand, to check magically if she was alive, willing her to be alive._

_Enervate. Enervate…_

_Nothing. Shaking, he looked up—_

_Right into a pair of green eyes, wide and alert. Lily’s eyes…_

_“How could you! Lily and James!” Bam! Blood and the crater and the smoldering ruins of the street, and his own laughter bubbling over the scene of the destruction._

He finally managed to transform, wet tears on his cheeks, now staining his shaggy black fur. The memories didn’t stop. But they were muted. Like he was witnessing them through a haze. He’d survived Azkaban for twelve years. He’d survive a few more hours.

****

Cold… The water was cold. He had plunged right into the raging waves. The weather and the sea weren’t on his side, but from his cell he couldn’t have known this, and now there was no way back, no second attempt. It would be this one, today, or never. He’d either succeed, or he’d drown trying to reach the shore. There was no turning around for him. This was a one-way trip.

If nothing else, the waves quickly washed the desperately paddling dog away from the horrible prison on a rough rock in the middle of the North Sea. Water beat him down, pushed him under water, but the dog resurfaced. Sputtering and breathing in heavy gulps of air before he went under again.

He transformed, hoping his human form would give him a better chance against the forces of nature. Desperately, with what little strength he could wring out of his body he swam against the waves. The shore – he needed to get to the shore—

But he couldn’t even see it. Water was burning in his eyes, he tasted salt in his throat. With each stroke of his arms, he told himself, just one more. With hands and bare feet, he pushed water away, but there was so much water in front of him—

His muscles – whatever was left of them after years of hunger and a week of complete starvation – were cramping. His own weight, the soaked prison garbs, the lethargy in his limbs was dragging him down. He didn’t swim anymore, was hopelessly trying to keep above the surface. But there was water in his mouth, in his nose, down his throat— He swallowed it but there was more rushing in.

He saw only the black of the water around him, and he felt the cold of the sea…

Help! He thought! Help! He was drowning.

 _Cold…Cold…_ He’d been cold for twelve years… they were coming… they were coming. Instinctively, he turned into the shape of the big black dog.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whenever Kakashi speaks in Italics, he's talking Japanese.
> 
> Thanks so much for the kind first reception. I realized just now, that I'll be off with my parents after tomorrow and I don't know if and when I'll find he time to upload anything - nevermind type more. So here's the next chapter and though I try to also upload another christmas chapter this week, I don't know if I'll make it. If not I already wish you a merry christmas, happy holidays, and if I really really don't find the time at all a goot start into the new year.

He woke up on soft wet soil. It must have rained the night before, but now it was warm. Sunlight played on his face drying traces of mud on his skin and clothes. Groggily, Kakashi blinked against the light. How did he end up outside? And—

Suddenly alert, he jumped up, standing upright, pulling a kunai at the ready. Woods… He was in a forest, and he was alone. Those were the only two things he registered before his strength left him again. Confused and worried at the sudden onslaught of nausea, he went down on all fours. The world was spinning around him. He needed a moment to suppress the need to vomit. What was going on? He felt as if he was suffering from mild chakra exhaustion. The nausea, the headache, the loss of balance was a telltale sign. But he didn’t feel physically weak. He didn’t feel the ache of a fight. Nor could he remember using any jutsu that could have caused this. A genjutsu, was his first worry. Or had he been poisoned? How? When?

The last thing he remembered he’d been at his father’s house. He remembered hallucinating – seeing his father’s dead body. He remembered Obito’s eye itching and then…

 _Nothing_ …

How had he ended up here? Worried – bordering on panicked – he checked his surroundings again, now that his vision was slowly clearing again, and the world had stopped spinning. He was alone, definitely. He didn’t see nor hear or smell another person. Only the trees and animals and wet earth. There was salt in the air. The sea. Impossible! He’d have to be at least a day’s trip away from the village if he was close enough to the sea that he was able to smell it so clearly. What was going on?

Belatedly, he started checking himself over. He wasn’t hurting, no bumps or bruises beyond the shallow scabbed over cut in his thumb from when he had summoned Pakkun during the Kyuubi attack the day before. He wore the same ANBU uniform minus ANBU mask that he had worn when he’d seen the Hokage. He wore his headband slanted over his left eye, as he normally did when he wasn’t on mission for ANBU. There were no signs of blood or dirt on him, beyond a thin layer of sun-dried mud from where he had laid on the ground. He still had his sword strapped to his back. Checking his weapon’s pouch, all his kunai, shuriken, scrolls, soldier pills and wire and other equipment was still there.

As if he had just teleported here. Indeed, teleportation might be the only explanation. The only jutsu he knew that could do that, was Minato-sensei’s very own Flying Thunder God technique. But Minato-sensei was dead, buried just hours ago, and he also couldn’t find any of his seals lying around, which he’d need as a marker for the technique. It also wouldn’t explain, how Kakashi didn’t remember anything. For now, he assumed he had to live with not knowing. There were other questions to focus on.

For example, where exactly he was. Because now that he had a clearer view of the woods around him, they not only didn’t much resemble the woods around Konoha that he knew inside out, but he wasn’t even sure he was in the Land of Fire anymore. Some of the scents were familiar, some of the plants he knew, but there were others he had never seen before. Those were not native to the Land of Fire.

But where else was he? This was neither the snowy mountain region to the north, nor the desolate desert and rock formations to the west. It might be the Land of Water, he thought, though he was unconvinced. He hadn’t spent much time there yet, so he didn’t know their forests. But from what he knew of the country, it was known for its cool weather and mists, but this was a clear and warm day. Still, if he was in the Land of Water, that could be troublesome. They had just signed the peace treaty between the great nations, but relations were still tense. If he was detected by the wrong people and recognized as a shinobi of the leaf, that might spell trouble. A Konoha-shinobi in foreign territory without prior notice might be reason enough to declare war again and Kakashi did not fancy being the cause for the next Great Shinobi War. He wouldn’t be the first in his family to have that honor.

Even if this was one of the smaller countries close to the coast – who would not declare war so easily – being found out might cause diplomatic troubles.

Deciding it was best, he didn’t show his allegiance openly, he took off his Konoha headband, and instead wrapped a piece of bandage around his forehead and Obito’s sharingan eye. He also decided to take off his leg-pouch and the sword and removed the wrappings around his calves and pieces of armor. He bandaged his shoulder, where his ANBU tattoo would give away his affiliation. After sealing everything away in a storage scroll, he was fairly convinced that he wasn’t recognizable as a leaf shinobi anymore. At least not to a common civilian. His name had recently been added to a few villages’ Bingo Books, so there was a decent chance a foreign shinobi might recognize him just off his looks. There was nothing to be done about that, short of using a genjutsu – which depending on how well another shinobi was with detecting it, might be more suspicious than just walking around as a teenager. He was young, after all, and he hadn’t met anybody who didn’t underestimate him, yet. Still, in the next village, he should probably try to get some more inconspicuous civilian clothes.

****

He quickly got used to the strange forest. He liked forests. They made him feel more at home than deserts, or meadows, or mountains. This forest wasn’t very impressive though. Around Konoha there were massive old trees with thick branches and crowns of leaves that led almost no light through. This forest was much more open. It was a mixed forest with a decent number of conifers as opposed to the Land of Fire’s broadleaf forests. Most of the tree branches, he was certain, wouldn’t carry a man’s weight.

He was a little disappointed, when he didn’t walk long at all before the forest opened up to open meadows and fields, sprawling all the way to where he saw the sea sparkle under the sun. It was barely even a forest at all. Still, he had to admit, the soft hills he now had free sight on, were beautiful. Mostly, he was surprised by how cultivated they seemed. He saw rows of trees, patches of forests, spread through green meadows with knee-high grass and fields of red and gold in odd almost square shapes that couldn’t be natural. There were paths, streets and small rivers with bridges cutting through the hills. As he kept on walking, he saw fences that clearly indicated that the land belonged to somebody. Yet, he saw no actual settlement. Some lone houses here and there, but no villages, and no people around.

The people who lived in this place cultivated different plants than he was used to. In the Land of Fire, he most commonly saw rice, here there was golden wheat and red poppy, and other plants he didn’t know or had only ever seen described in books and scrolls.

At normal walking speed, he needed a bit over two hours to reach the coast. East, he noticed. He was going east to the coast. At least if he was still on the northern hemisphere. Kakashi found himself standing atop a beautiful cliff-side. It wasn’t particularly high, but he rather enjoyed the view. Rough rock jutted out into the waves. He could not see any land on the other side all the way to the horizon.

Looking down, Kakashi noticed an odd dark shape on the long and wide sand beach. Curiously, Kakashi went along the cliff, a little closer towards the odd shape. An animal. Had it fallen off the cliff? With a simple jump he slid down the cliff landed feather light on the beach below.

Indeed, there right at the coast, still wet from the sea was a shaggy black dog. It was quite big, Kakashi realized. Well-fed, it might be comparable to Bull in size, he thought, but there was nothing ‘well-fed’ about the scrawny mutt. The fur was standing shaggy off a starved and skeletal frame.

Kakashi liked dogs. His father had helped him train his first ninken. Now, he had his own pack. He hadn’t trained them all himself, some he had taken over from father, and really with all of them, they trained each other more than anything else. But still… Seeing this creature starved like that, stung Kakashi. He was a dog-person after all.

Where had it come from anyway? Had it somehow climbed down the cliff and tried to fish in the water without success? Or had it swum here from… from where? At least, Kakashi was reasonably sure that this dog was a stray.

Still fearing that it might have fallen off the cliff or otherwise been hurt, Kakashi knelt and checked it over for injuries. It was a male He thought he found a few bruises hidden away behind the fur, but nothing severe apart from the starvation. The dog was breathing steadily. He was also shaking like a leaf. He seemed only asleep, though the fact that he hadn’t been woken up by a stranger’s scent – never mind said stranger getting up close and personal – was alarming.

Something was odd, about his scent, Kakashi thought. He clearly smelled of dog, but there was a rather overwhelming human note to it. And that wasn’t just the lingering scent of being cuddled or scratched between the ears – never mind that this dog did not look like he’d ever been cuddled or scratched between the ears – but something much stronger. It reminded Kakashi almost of the Inuzuka. That clan of shinobi possessed dog-like characteristics – and they smelled that way too. While they smelled more human than dog, this one smelled more dog than human, but it was still somewhere oddly in between.

“ _You’re hungry, hm?_ ” Kakashi muttered his hand resting over the ribs that were so clearly standing out even through the fur. He didn’t remember ever seeing a dog in such a malnourished state and still be alive.

He stood, stretched, and looked out to the sea. If nothing else, he could feed the poor creature. Soldier pills wouldn’t do, he knew. They kept the body running, but they weren’t suited to treat malnutrition and starvation. Fish might do the trick, though.

******

Sirius woke up to salt and smoke in his nose and the crusty feeling of sun-dried seawater in his fur. He woke up to an aching body, to an empty cramping stomach, to bone-deep exhaustion. Most of all, he woke up to freedom. The last thing he remembered was the sheer panic as he was dragged down by the sea, but apparently the sea had been merciful. It had washed him ashore. Where exactly, he didn’t know, yet, but at least – that much was clear by the warmth of the sun in his fur – it wasn’t that blasted prison island.

Wait… Smoke? Fire?

Now that the initial surprise at having survived so far began to pass, he was able to discern the scents more thoroughly. There was the salt of the sea, smoke and fire, another person and… grilled fish? He wasn’t alone. There was a human close by. A human with food.

And Sirius was hungry.

He blinked his eyes open against the bright sun, and then he was on all four, growling. Sirius was moving on pure instinct, as he crouched down for the attack, aiming at the fish roasting over a small open fire. But then he froze, as his human mind caught up with what he’d been about to do.

That person sitting at the fire, it was just a boy. The same age Harry would be now. Just a kid, and Sirius was about to attack him.

_Did you sink so low, that you’re ready to attack a kid? Steal their food? Is that how far you’ve fallen?_

Ashamed he found himself taking half a step back. A single grey eye followed each of his movement with an unnerving expression somewhere between bored and alert. The other eye was covered in white bandages, most of his face – really – was hidden away by those bandages and a black cloth mask. There was a shaggy lopsided tuft of spiky grey hair. Even James’ hair hadn’t been that wild. An odd kid, Sirius thought, but still just a child and he would rather starve than…

_But can you afford that? Can you afford starving to death while Peter is still with Harry?_

Angry over his own self-doubts, he shook his head trying to dispel his own thoughts. Then he turned away, to look along the cliff. He had no clue where he was. This might be everywhere in central- or southeast England.

The boy’s voice made Sirius turn back to him. What had he said? He hadn’t understood it. Then he spoke again, holding up a fish in Sirius direction. His lips were clearly moving behind the mask, and Sirius heard his voice, but beyond the overall bored but kind tone, he didn’t understand a thing. He understood the gesture, though.

Wearily, and distrusting he padded through the sand the few meters to the fireplace. Carefully, he sniffed the fish. The boy chuckled quietly, then said something else, and then pulled the fish away. Sirius whined disappointed. He’d thought—

A hand was behind his ears scratching comfortably. Sirius couldn’t help but lean into the touch. He hadn’t been touched kindly like that in years. Before Azkaban, being able to turn into a dog supplied him with a constant stream of cuddles and massages and small loving tickles. Since then however, human contact had been reduced to a minimum and whatever physical contact he had, had been all but kind. He leaned his head heavily into the touch. The boy spoke again. Then when he pulled his hand away, Sirius rolled over on the sand, exposing his belly. The boy chuckled again, but only gave one more short scratch of his belly.

Sirius whined when the boy stopped. He spoke again, as if in reply to Sirius’ whining. If only he could understand that language. Sirius, initial fear, that he might not have landed in England after all, but somewhere on the continent, where they didn’t speak English, had left him now, that he heard more than a few words. The language was decidedly Asian, though he could not place it exactly.

Curiously, he watched the boy, as he worked on the fish. Then, after only a few moments, Sirius turned around again, when he realized, the boy wasn’t in fact withholding the treat he had offered earlier. He was plucking out the bones. Sirius ate the first bit when the boy carefully laid it out in front of him in the sand, trying not to get it too sandy. Still Sirius took quite a bit of sand with it. It was grinding and crackling against his teeth though as a dog, he did not mind it too much. He licked his lips, then he ate the next bit right out of the boy’s hand. The kid chuckled again.

Sirius didn’t know if it was just this boy specifically or the sudden vicinity to… kindness and casual friendliness… that made him love this little amused sound so much, that he wanted to hear more of it. As he waited for more, he nudged the boy’s neck, and was rewarded with another small chuckle. It was never more than that. Never a full-on laugh, and he never saw the smile behind the mask. But it was enough. Would it be like that when he finally met Harry?

_Stop it! Harry likely hates you. He has every reason to. This boy would too if he knew who you were._

The thought brought a stop to his enthusiasm, but he still ate the fish he was offered with the same vigor. The first real solid food, the first thing that wasn’t a tasteless, colorless mush.

Sirius glanced at the last of three coalfish, that the boy didn’t feed to him. It was still spit-roasting over the fire. It smelled good, and for a moment Sirius wished he could turn human and really eat with the boy. Of course, he couldn’t.

******

What an odd dog, Kakashi thought. Based on his state, he’d bet the dog hadn’t been trained by humans. A stray. Despite the strong smell of human, it was how Kakashi had explained the animal’s abysmal state. Yet, he had rarely if ever seen such a well-behaved dog. Even among trained ones, it was difficult to keep them in check, once they were hungry. This one… He’d clearly planned to attack for just a moment, but than changed his mind. Why?

Overall, some of his actions seemed odd. Some of his expressions were almost human. Never mind, that he hadn’t even lunged when Kakashi had pulled the fish away to take out the bones first. As if the animal understood that was what he was doing. Obviously, he couldn’t speak and apparently also didn’t understand what Kakashi was saying. But other than that, this one seemed almost on par with his ninken in terms of intelligence.

As he pulled down his mask and started eating his own dinner, he absentmindedly ruffled the dog’s fur in between bites. The animal obviously liked that. Despite how he’d first seemed careful and weary when he came closer, he reacted to touch like a touch-starved child. Kakashi ate fast, but as there was nobody else around, he was in no hurry. His thoughts were with the animal that now laid comfortably at his side, the belly lowered down into the sand.

He’d thought it might be an illusion. A human dog transformation that was more than just a regular henge, but he couldn’t detect an illusion and he also didn’t detect any chakra reserves that would suggest that this dog was a shinobi in disguise or even a ninken. For all intends and purposes he seemed to be an ordinary dog, just that he didn’t smell like one, and that he was clearly more intelligent than most dogs, Kakashi had ever met.

Well, as long as he wasn’t an enemy, it didn’t matter much. So, there was a smart dog, he’d tell Pakkun about it later. The leader of his ninken pack would have a laugh at that, or he’d feel insulted at being compared to some stray. The chances where 50/50 at that.

The more his thoughts drifted away from the animal, the more he came back to his initial situation. “Do you know where we are?” he asked, looking around. Then he chuckled. “Well I guess you can’t answer anyway.” He pulled his mask back up. Now that it was slowly getting dark, he saw lights further down the coast. There was some sort of village or city there. He’d just have to ask the inhabitants. And if he wanted to get anything done today, he should probably start going soon.

Standing up, he smothered the flames with sand and then gave the dog one last more thorough cuddle, before he turned to walk towards the lights. Kakashi didn’t expect it, but when he started walking, the dog followed as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He didn’t mind the company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the two met!  
> As you see, Kakashi doesn't speak English, Sirius doesn't speak Japanese, so I'll actually will spend the next two or so chapters with Kakashi trying to learn the language and making some sense of the alphabet. Thankfully he's a genius.
> 
> Since I decided to just plop him into this new world, he's very much out of his depth. He doesn'T speak the language, has no idea where he is, doesn't know anybody and doesn't know about magic. As I mentioned in last chapter's author's notes, I think Kakashi - fighting wise - is really overpowered compared to the Harry Potter cast, so giving him all sorts of minute things to worry about would be more of a challenge for him than just rocking up to Voldemort, the Death EAters or Peter and put a Raikiri through them. 
> 
> As for characterization:  
> This is 14 year old righ-after-Kyuubi-attack ANBU Kakashi. However, I although I know, that he's often portrayed as such, I decided against just writing him as the cold-blooded killer. Kakashi was already well on his way to become the kind, polite and humple person we meet as an adult. So he's not cold-bloode or cruel or a mindless murderer. - He is however definiely a trained and effective assassin. He's deeply misunderstood, traumatized and depressed. He doesn't know how to interact with people outside of a clear team-structure, he surely has no idea about Sirius' very different morals. He doesn't like showing emotions, nor does he really know how to. He never really learned how to be a child and people (especially strangers) are a always a cause of concern for him, as he doesn't know who's an enemy. However, as he finds a starved dog, the first emotion he'll feel for it, is kindhearted compassion. If he'd found a human, maybe he'd be more distrusting and careful, but dogs are different.
> 
> As for Sirius, I'm not quite sure how being a dog affects his psyche. The fact that dementors don'T affect him as badly when he's in his animagus form seems to suggest that it at least somewhat affects the mind and emotions too. So as a dog, sirius is a mix between very animalistic instincts, his very strong value system and also a decent amount of self-hatred and guilt. With Sirius it's a it difficult to walk the line between the knowledge that he'S innocent and feeling guilty for what happened regardless. This makes him very self-conscious. He knows how people would react to him, if they knew who he was, and he's also a Gryffindor, so he hates that he has to lie about it, feels cowardly, to just be mooching off other people who only help him because they don't know who he is. Sirius in canon is not necessarily the kindest person. He's been bullying Snape for yearss, he can be quite mean, he's on an actual revenge trip and he feels very angry at the world. However, as far as Kakashi is concerned, Kakashi is the first person to be kind to him, and I just liked the idea of dog Sirius who hasn't experienced laughter in years, getting all excited at hearing just the tiniest chuckle from some stranger kid.


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, to all my lovely readers!  
> I hope you're having a good day and didn't let watever lockdown restrictions there are at your place ruin your time. For those of you who don't celebrate christmas, I hope you're having a good time anyway.
> 
> There will be no new chapter until after New Year, so I wish you all a good start into the new year. Let's hope 2021 has a little less excitement to offer in terms of world politics, pandemics and some such, and more excitement in terms of me actually being able to leave the house again.
> 
> Enjoy the chaper.

Well… Kakashi didn’t know what he had expected, but it wasn’t a city with people who not only spoke a completely different language, but even used a different alphabet.

It wasn’t a particularly big place, he realized when he walked from one end to the next. Konoha was bigger, though not by much. Other than that, every attempt for a comparison to Konoha was soon doomed for failure. This place was completely different. There was no protective wall or border surveillance. The architecture was different, the people wore different clothes and there were odd metal machines everywhere, that he quickly gathered, where meant for transport. Most strikingly he had to walk up and down before he realized that there was no clear administrative center. First – as he was used with Konoha – he’d gravitated towards the biggest building with the square tower, but upon coming closer, he’d realized it was likely a place for religious worship rather than government. There were other big buildings that stood out among their neighbors but none quite big enough, that he suspected it to be the seat of the city’s leader. This was clearly not a shinobi-village, but more than that, it was unlike any city he had ever been in, civilian or shinobi.

The people here – that was quite clear from the way they walked – felt safe even without reinforced borders. On top of that, despite the architecture looking decidedly luxurious and rich – more so than most civilian villages he knew, which were built from wooden huts sprinkled in between sprawling fields – he could not find a Daimyo’s or even a representative’s seat.

Odd. Feeling lost, he sat down on a park bench next to a field of red poppy. It did not look like this village had seen any war lately. Not within the last decade or five at least. They spoke a language he had never heard, used an alphabet he’d never seen. More than anything he was certain now, that this was not the Land of Water. If he didn’t think the mere idea was absurd, he’d assume that he’d left their continent entirely. How?

Absentmindedly he tickled the big black dog who was standing next to him, watching the people with rare curiosity for a dog.

“ _Mah_ ,” Kakashi muttered, “ _can’t help it._ ” With how things turned out and having no idea how he could get home as it was… he had no other chance, but to try and learn the language. If nothing else, it was a rather new and unexpected challenge. There was a small shop, he had walked by earlier. It looked like a bit of a junk shop, selling everything from souvenirs to books to second-hand clothes.

As he entered the shop a small jingle welcomed him into the room. It smelled of dust, leather and old wood.

“Welcome,” an elderly woman greeted, hands clasped together, giving him a broad smile from where she sat behind the register. Although, he didn’t know the word, he understood the meaning easy enough.

“ _Thank you_ ,” he answered as he held the door open for the dog. The dog blinked up at him as if confused.

“Oh no, dear, your dog has to wait outside,” the woman said from where she sat, quickly standing up to walk up to him. “I’m sorry.”

“Your dog?” he repeated questioningly, trying to copy her way of speaking.

“My?” she shook her head confused. “No, your dog… Oh, I see, you don’t understand English? English?”

He shook his head, not understanding. She pointed to the dog. “Dog,” she said. Then she pointed to him and again to the dog. “Your dog. Outside.” She pointed out the door.

Apparently, the dog had already understood, as it retreated quickly to wait on the street. Curious, Kakashi thought. Really well-trained.

“Dog.” Kakashi repeated with a smile. “Outside. _Thank you_.” He bowed lightly.

“Ah,” the woman squealed as if not expecting the gesture. “What language do you speak? Is that Chinese? Oh wait, I know!”

To his surprise, she pushed a hand between his shoulder blades. He bristled a little at the sudden contact, but as she pushed him forward, he followed without complaint. She led him to a shelf with many brochures all designed in a similar way, and, as she pulled out a few – clearly searching for something – he realized they were all the same just in different languages. Curiously, he peered at some of them, until she gave him one with a red flag in the top right corner.

He frowned at it. Then his single eye widened. Almost, he thought. The Kanji seemed similar, but he couldn’t quite make sense of it all. He shook his head. The woman handed him a different brochure.

This was it.

“Cromer,” he read in Katakana, reading it out loud. “Norfolk.”

“Ah Japanese, there you go.” At his look of confusion, she pointed at the flag. “Japanese,” she pulled out another map with a blue flag with red and white lines crisscrossing through its center. “English.” The lady shook her head. “Oh, dear you really don’t know a single word.”

He took the other brochure. The English one. He started to understand. Glad that apparently, at least these people knew of his language. That would make it a lot easier. If he found a dictionary somewhere… but the shop did not seem big enough to randomly offer Japanese – English dictionaries. Still looking around, he found something else of interest. There were a number of small hard-cover children’s stories. Among others, there was one with a big dog at the front. He picked it up, flipped through it, until he found a picture of a big Labrador on one of the first pages. ‘Dog’ was written above it. He showed the script to the woman. “Dog?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said with a pleased smile. But she also looked tired, having to communicate with him that way. Kakashi felt almost a little bad for it. It also really ruffled his feathers being treated like a kid again. And he even felt adequately helpless with his utter lack of understanding. Frustrated now, he gave the book and the brochures back to her.

“Oh no, keep them. It’s a present. For such a kind boy.” She ruffled his hair to his own embarrassment. As she gestured with her hands, pushing the items back to him, he understood. “A Gift.”

“A gift…”

He hid all three items in a tiny little plastic bag and then left the shop. Frowning down at the dog, he thought for a moment. “Dog,” he then said testily. It was as if the animal nodded happily at that.

Shaking his head, Kakashi waved for him to follow.

****

Whatever Sirius had expected of his first day as a free man, he hadn’t seen himself following around a young apparently Japanese kid who did not speak a word of English and seemed to be completely without parents. He didn’t think he’d follow a boy around on their first step to learning the English language. He hadn’t expected to get nicknamed ‘Dog’ by the end of the day, and most of all… He had not expected the boy to leave the town again and climb a tree just outside its boundaries to sleep between its leaves.

Confused and worried that the kid might fall, Sirius whined and woofed up to the boy, who only said something down to him which sounded distinctly unworried and calming. Sirius gave up then, and simply curled up at the tree trunk below the boy.

Cromer, he thought, Norfolk. That was where he was. He could go straight to Hogwarts, or make a detour southwest for Surrey, where he remembered Lily’s sister lived.

If Sirius had thought that first day was curious, what followed was even more so. As he woke up, the boy was already up and about. Somehow, he had woken up, climbed down his tree, and apparently even searched for breakfast all without waking Sirius. It seemed impossible, but it had been the smells of raw meat that had awaken him, and now he was watching a young teenager skin and then roast a squirrel on a tiny fire as if it was a daily routine. Sirius stood up, walking around the fire, watching curiously.

The boy scratched Sirius’ head, when he was done with the squirrel, leaving it to roast over the fire. With the other hand he inspected a number of wild berries he must have collected. Sirius felt worried as he vaguely remembered that some of them were poisonous, though he wasn’t sure entirely. But instead of just eating them, the boy would sniff them first, then squish them between his fingers sniff them again and by then he had already discarded most that Sirius was sure were poisonous. With those he hadn’t already discarded before, he’d test the juice on his finger, then the entire berry. He clearly knew what he was doing. Twice in the middle of chewing he spit a berry out again. How the boy did that, Sirius didn’t know. Even he with his dog senses wouldn’t be able to distinguish poisonous foods from healthy ones, in most cases. Not because his nose didn’t pick up the different odors but rather because he was missing the right reference framework in his memory. He simply did not know what poison smelled like unless it was so acidic that it already corroded the hairs in his nose, just by breathing in the fumes.

Ultimately – to Sirius great surprise – the boy threw the cooked squirrel and most of the remaining berries right in front of his snout. Had he eaten already while Sirius was still asleep? Or was he not hungry? In any case, Sirius did not feel like complaining. He felt famished and hunger stuck to him like glue. He was mooching and living off this teenager, he acknowledged with some shame, but he didn’t know the first thing about hunting and although he wasn’t above it, he’d rather avoid digging through trash.

After breakfast, the boy led him back to the town. Sirius was a little surprised at that as he hadn’t gotten the impression, that the boy had been very interested in the place. Yet, here he was again. Over night he had apparently studied the tourist brochure he had been gifted. Now he was walking up to random people on the street, showing them random places on the tiny map and somehow managed to transmit his question how to get to said location. For some reason, he asked multiple people for the same directions, and then when he finally made his way to the mayor’s house, the church, the park, the coast, he wasn’t in the least bit interested in it, but simply asked to be led to the next big sight on his list. Sirius was utterly confused.

Not everybody of the pedestrians he spoke to, was polite. Some were quite short with the boy, others even insulting with one suggesting if the boy used both eyes, maybe he wouldn’t overlook the giant church tower. Most were forthcoming however, if with varying degrees of patience at his attempts to ask more detailed questions. It was only, when Kakashi asked a young couple – they were the fifth group who he had asked that same question to – that Sirius finally understood.

“Right,” Kakashi said, pointing to the right. “The third turn right?” He held up three fingers.

The young woman nodded encouragingly. “Right. very nice,” as if approving of his accents.

He was learning the language! And at a tempo that was nothing short of staggering. Throughout all his time in Hogwarts, Sirius had been praised for his smarts. Him and James the Hogwarts posterchildren. This kid however... By the third day he was stealing newspapers off the trash trying hard to decipher the letters. He was mumbling as he did it, as if he was solving one of the world’s greatest mysteries. Sirius just heard enough to know, that the boy was thinking about the letters of the alphabet and he didn’t want to probe any further than that anyway. Sirius himself had a lot to hide himself, and so he felt no desire to probe in other people’s business.

Sirius thought, it was safe to assume, he still didn’t know half the words and pronounced a decent junk of them wrong. But he had the letter’s down. He could read the signs individually or in words he knew, but outside of that the pronunciation often changed. He was starting to speak more to the people he talked to on the street. Sometimes he got the word order wrong, sometimes, he didn’t make sense at all. Sometimes he was mocked for it and often he was praised for his effort. None of them, Sirius assumed, would guess that the boy hadn’t spoken a word of English just a few days ago.

It was magnificent. So much so, that Sirius didn’t feel any loss at all for spending the first week of his daring escape with this boy instead of making his way north toward Hogwarts. He knew he should go. There were things he had to do. But this boy… He was kind and caring beyond anything Sirius had experienced in years. He had saved him from starvation and loneliness. And at the same time, he seemed so very alone himself. Soon, a week had passed, and Sirius hadn’t met any parents, or friends who might be traveling with the boy. He also didn’t make contact through other means – always walking past the red boxes that Sirius remembered to be public telephones, without giving them a second glance.

Still, time was running short, Sirius knew. He was aware that the authorities would have noticed his prison break and were likely searching through the entire country for the mass-murderer on the loose. He could not risk being caught. He had a job to fulfill, and he couldn’t be side-tracked, no matter how at peace he felt with this strange young boy.

“Prime Minister Sir John Major met with his French colleague Édouard Balladur in Nice, France,” the boy read from the dirty old newspaper. He read slowly, butchering almost every second word. The French name didn’t sound at all correct, though Sirius wouldn’t know. Whatever he had ever known about Muggle politics, he was thoroughly out of the loop now. “…to discuss the ongoing conflict between…”

His voice drowned on. The boy sat next to Sirius, one arm absently ruffling through shaggy fur. It was like a ritual they had started a few days ago, wherein the boy read world happenings to his dog, trying to make sense of it. This article seemed rather boring. Ostentatiously, Sirius gave a wide yawn. The boy chuckled as if he knew exactly what Sirius meant.

“Boring?” he asked with a strong accent… His brows furrowed trying to find an article where he at least understood the first two words. “Thirty people dead after violent confrontation close to Johannesburg, South Africa,” he read with some trouble.

Sirius lifted his head showing that he was listening, then he put it down on the boy’s lap. The boy only read part of the article, before he apparently got frustrated with the number of words he didn’t know. He wasn’t just lacking every-day words, but apparently also the general knowledge to place the different names of locations, peoples, and public figures. Instead of reading the last few paragraphs, he glared at the picture. Then he folded the newspaper, yawned, and climbed up into his tree for the night.

Sirius seemingly settled for the night. In truth, he had made his decision. He would leave now. It was time. He felt guilty, leaving the boy like that, but he could not turn to tell his good-byes and he couldn’t stay here either. Instead, he waited for a while until the boy’s breath evened out. Then he climbed on all fours, stretched, and threw one last glance at the boy, before he turned to leave.

“Dog?”

How was he awake? But he clearly was. Quick as a cat he jumped off his tree landing elegantly on the ground. The boy was looking at him now, with something between surprise and sadness in his eyes. There was still the ever-present layer of boredom hiding each of his expressions, but Srius thought he could see past that now.

“Where you are going?” he asked.

Sirius barked, giving the only response he could.

“Do you… want where?” Kakashi asked with a frown, unhappy with his own word choice.

Sirius walked back to him, nudged him in the thigh. The boy crouched down to scratch the fur on his neck. “I give real name to you,” he said. “’Dog’ is bad name, hm?” He didn’t chuckle, but his eyes curved in the most expressive show of a smile. “How about Shaggy? Good?”

Sirius couldn’t deny that it fit. He nudged the boy’s shoulder.

“I’m Kakashi.” He lifted one of his hands to his own chest. “Kakashi.” Then he patted the length of Sirius’ snout. “Shaggy.”

Something rumbled warm in Sirius’ chest. “Okay, where go?” Kakashi asked as he stood up, looking patiently down on Sirius.

Did he…? He wanted to follow Sirius? Who would follow some stray around?

But Sirius had no words to deny him, so he simply gave a short bark and then turned towards London. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could still see Harry, before the vacations ended. It was the end of July and the new school year was still a whole month away.

******

Kakashi had changed his opinion about the dog again. His initial idea that he might be a mere stray, had been disproven by how well-behaved he was around humans. Then, he’d been certain, he must have been trained by people. But the more time he spent with him the more he had to revise this opinion. He wasn’t responsive enough to simple gestures and command. In fact, there were no commands, the dog listened to. It was rather as if he listened to and understood English. He did not react to the more common hand signals, yet if Kakashi wanted him to lay down, there was a myriad of ways to tell the dog that simple desire. He could tell him to lie down, to sit, to make himself comfortable, to come and cuddle, he might just raise his arm invitingly, and the dog would perfectly understand. Kakashi had tried playing around with the different signals a little, and simply… The dog’s intelligence was – he was sure – almost if not on par with Pakkun’s. He understood human language, instead of listening to certain hard-trained signals like most dogs did.

Sometimes Kakashi was even convinced, he could read. The dog could certainly read the ‘Dog’s stay outside’ signs better than Kakashi himself. He could differentiate when a door said ‘push’ or ‘pull’. Sometimes, when Kakashi was looking for a certain shop, he led him towards the exact right one. And yet, there were so many other aspects, he was so much worse at, than Kakashi had expected.

For one, the dog could not hunt. On their third day, he’d been awake when Kakashi went on his hunt. The dog had followed, and hadn’t known how to be quiet, how to properly lurk hidden in the bushes waiting for prey. He had about the subtlety of an angry horse. He also didn’t seem adept at tracking. Once he had followed a squirrel’s scent and was thrown off completely by the mere fact that the small animal had climbed a tree and jumped to another. He clearly had a sharp nose, but he didn’t seem to know what to do with it. Even his instincts were off, judging by how easy Kakashi could sneak around him. And then, this one night, one week after they met, a week after Kakashi had first arrived in this strange country, the dog just up and wanted to leave.

It was maybe for the best, Kakashi decided. Cromer, Norfolk was a small town and by now, the boy roaming the area with no parents or friends had become gossip around the place. Several people had already suggested calling an institution by the name ‘Police’ but from what Kakashi had learned, he didn’t want to be apprehended by them. It would either spell trouble or not help at all. At least, he had to know where exactly he was in relation to Konoha, how he got here and how to get back home before he could risk being caught by any foreign authority.

So, skipping town, seemed like the smart thing to do. He had no things to pack, so instead, he simply kicked down the burned down coals of their fireplace. Then he rolled the newspaper together and followed the dog’s lead.

The dog’s lead. It would not be the first time, he’d do that. He was very much used to following Pakkun’s lead during missions. But a dog he could barely communicate with.

Shaggy… that was his name now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I should say, that feedback is always welcome :D
> 
> So yeah, Kakashi started learning the language and Sirius really likes this odd kid, but he has to start his journey anyway. Kakashi is a genius, so he does quite well with learning the languge. Honestly at first I had this chapter a lot longer and an extra scene about him learning to decipher the alphabet and finding out about capitalization an such things... but that was a bit too much, and it isn't really all that exciting. Honestly, I don't know much about Japanese, so I have no idea about how to write a believable Japanese accent. So I decided to not even bother with it. He speaks with an accent and, mixes up word order, sometimes forgets words completely or doesn't know them. He has a great memory, so learning the vocabulary and using it mostly correct is fairly easy for him - though he's still only using small and easy words. Grammar is harder, as he has to piece that together himself. And of course pronounciation is a mess. Yet, he's making quick improvement - if only becaue I can't wait to just let him use proper english sentences. Instead of some garbled mess. I hope you can bear with it for a few more chapters.
> 
> Also I decided that I probaby will send him to hogwarts for a while. Don't know how yet - whether he's going to enroll or whether he's going to infiltrate it for a time. Tell me what you prefer.


	4. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have a chapter prewritten, that I will upload next week. Then however I don't know if I'll have a lot of time writing the beginning of march. I have a few exams coming up... normally that gives me doubly motivation to write - as writing is my favourite procrastination method - but don't count on it.

Shaggy let them at a leisurely pace. He turned around to make sure, Kakashi was keeping up every now and then, though the boy had no trouble whatsoever. Kakashi was even a little warmed by the consideration, though he didn’t need it. The dog stayed on pathways and streets through the fields, never quite entering the small patches of forest to the west. That too, Kakashi assumed, he did out of consideration.

A kind dog… Maybe overly so.

They followed a small road to an even smaller place called Metton. Kakashi deciphered the town sign, just as they entered the small amalgamation of houses. This one, Kakashi thought, reminded him much more of the villages he was used to. The architecture was still different of course, most buildings made of stone and brick. This village – just like Cromer – had a church throning above the rest, a solid fortress-like structure made of grey stone. But the size of the village was comparable to what he was used to. The houses stood spread far apart, belonging to small farms, each farm a small number of buildings grouped together, with a big front yard, and fields stretching out long behind it.

 _Charming_ , Kakashi thought, as he watched an elderly couple sit outside on their front porch, enjoying the morning sun.

A sudden loud noise made him jump. One of the big metallic machines was rolling up behind him. Kakashi could hear it come closer from far away, but he hadn’t been prepared for the loud horn that suddenly blared out. The big, bright green machine slowly rolled past them, the driver eying Kakashi and Shaggy wearily. He hadn’t even passed yet, when he slowed down and came to a complete stop next to him. “You should take your dog on a leash,” the man in the front of the vehicle called out to him. “It’s dangerous, when a car comes by and he gets frantic.”

Kakashi frowned at the man, trying to understand the language. “Leash?” he asked looking down at Shaggy. He’d heard the word a few times now regarding Shaggy. There was something in Shaggy’s stance, that bothered Kakashi every time he heard it. The dog was bristling, ducking, almost inching away at the word. Kakashi was confused by the reaction. He had understood it to mean some sort of rope to tie to the dog, so he would not run away. Kakashi himself saw little need for it. The dog seemed well-behaved enough, and well-adjusted to the world around him – in fact he seemed better adjusted than Kakashi himself. Never mind that Kakashi trusted his own reflexes enough, that he could catch the dog in time, before he could do something overly stupid like jump in front of this ‘car’. “I don’t… think…,” but he was running out of words. “ _Thanks, but I don’t think it’s necessary_.” He switched to Japanese instead.

The man looked at him curiously. “Tourist?” he asked. Kakashi already knew that word. He nodded. When the man looked up and down the street, Kakashi knew what he was looking for. This land didn’t seem used to teenagers traveling alone. They’d have a laugh if they knew the kinds of things he’d already done and survived in his life. Well that, or they would declare him mad.

“Alone?” the man asked curious and a little worried. When Kakashi nodded again, the man frowned. “You should be careful,” he said.

Careful… Kakashi tried to place the word. He was sure he had heard it before. “I’m sorry, I don’t know… careful,” he said.

The man made a face. “Just get back to your parents,” he suggested, turning back towards the street, starting his machine again. The motor almost drowned out the next words. “They say there’s a killer on the loose.” He drove on, before Kakashi could try to decipher that sentence.

He knew ‘kill’. It had been in the article he had read to Shaggy just yesterday. So, he could guess what a killer was.

He saw the man and his machine turn left into one of the big yards in the village. Unsure what he should make of his last warning, he waved for Shaggy to continue their way. Kakashi truly did not fear a killer. He was one himself. As peaceful as this land seemed, Kakashi thought it was unlikely that there was anybody with a kill count quite as high as himself.

It was nothing he was proud of. Apparently, he had a talent for it. He was rather effective, and he would do everything for his village. But he was not proud of his murders.

He was proud to call himself Minato-sensei’s students. Obito’s friend who he had in the end trusted his own Sharingan-eye to. The man Rin thought, she could love. His father’s son… All things that were gifted to him. There was nothing of his own achievement to be proud of.

And look what you did with what you had. All dead in the ground.

He shook his head, realizing, Shaggy hadn’t moved yet. Kakashi had already taken the first few steps, but Shaggy was the guide for this journey. Impatiently, Kakashi looked back at him. “What is?” he asked.

But as if he just needed that push, Shaggy started moving again, measuredly putting one paw in front of the other, as if there was a danger that one wrong step might open the ground to swallow him whole. Curiously, Kakashi watched until Shaggy was past him again.

They passed a few more small villages that day. Kakashi realized that something had changed in Shaggy. He was more careful. He was glancing around himself. He kept closer to Kakashi. Whenever they entered a new village, he would visibly slow down, until he stepped into the inhabited area. It was curious. Part of Kakashi wondered, if the dog had understood the warning about the killer and was worried. It was an amusing thought.

“Hey Shaggy,” Kakashi called out jokingly just as they left a place called Erping…something.

The dog perked up, trudged over to him, and nudged his hand with his wet snout. His tail wagged a little, showing more life than he had ever since they left Metton.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his single eye curving into a smile, as he knelt and ruffled the wild fur. “No worries about killer.” He bit down hard on his lip. How often had he said that? Everyday since Obito’s death, he spoke it like a mantra into the mirror. What good had it ever done him? He had failed and failed and failed. And yet, he had meant it every time. And yet… What else was there. He had failed his friends, his comrades, his teacher. But surely a dog… A mutt with no enemies? He could do that. “I don’t let friends die.” He had tried hard for that sentence, stringing the words together, until it sounded right.

For some reason, the dog’s tail-wagging stopped immediately. His ears stood up as he stared at Kakashi with wide intelligent eyes. Then he gave a single approving bark before he dragged a hot wet tongue over Kakashi’s palm. The boy grimaced a little, wiping his hand in the dog’s fur.

He didn’t know if the dog had understood his words, or if his words had even made sense in English. In any case, Shaggy’s behavior didn’t get better all the way to the next bigger settlement. It was a place called Aylsham and it was the first place that seemed in size comparable to Cromer. At least there were shops again, and he recognized the more densely built rows of houses. If nothing else this little trip was proof enough, that this land seemed much more densely populated than he was used to. This was now the second settlement almost comparable to Konoha in size, and they were just 3 hours apart – 3 hours at a casual civilian stroll.

Once more, Shaggy seemed to almost hesitate, before he led Kakashi straight into the center of Aylsham. If he was so afraid of people, Kakashi thought a little bothered by this behavior, why lead Kakashi this way anyway? Kakashi didn’t need to see these places. However, now that he was here…

Walking past the many shops, he thought having a little money wouldn’t be half bad. Whatever money he had with him was worthless after all.

A small shop caught his sight. He couldn’t quite decipher the script on the sign. The font was odd, much heavier and a little fancier than he was used to. It had the distinct characteristics of traditional quill writing. But it made it so much more difficult to read the foreign symbols. The big window, however, showed a wild arsenal of what Kakashi assumed where different historical artifacts, among which were several weapons – some of which seemed familiar.

He made a beeline for the shop. Shaggy seemed a bit surprised by this turn, but he followed regardless, before he stopped short in front of the door. More than usual, now that he had to wait outside, he ducked low making himself small, as if trying to hide. Was he afraid without Kakashi close by? Still, he stayed outside without even a complaining whine.

“What can I do for you?” a young man asked as he entered. There was only one other costumer. “What strikes your fancy, lad?”

“I want…,” Kakashi said frustrated at the difficulties he still had with the language. “I need money.”

The man laughed a little baffled. “Sorry, kid, I’m not a bank. That’s just down the road.”

“No.” His hand moved back to his pouch pulling out a kunai. He carefully tried to not hold it in a threatening way. The young man still jumped as the knife blinked in the light of the shop. Kakashi quickly put it on the register. “You get kunai. I get money.”

The man stared at him. “You want to sell?” He looked down at the knife. “Jesus, kid, where did you get that?” His hand made a quick grab for the knife, Kakashi let him. “Is that… Oh, wow, it’s bloody sharp.” He stupidly bumped his thumb against the weapon drawing a tiny bit of blood. Could he not tell that it was sharp by simply looking at it? Kakashi was a bit annoyed at that carelessness. “Where did you get that?” He asked again.

“Yes, sell,” Kakashi said instead of answering. “How much?”

But the man wasn’t ready to give an answer quite yet. “It looks real,” he said.

Kakashi scoffed, of course it was real. Didn’t these people ever see real weapons that they’d react so overly dramatic over a simple kunai. Kakashi had dozens of these.

“It’s a Japanese throwing knife,” the man uselessly supplied, ignoring all the other ways a Kunai might be used. It was a nifty little all-around tool, much more than just a throwing weapon. But he didn’t intend to educate this man on the ways of the shinobi. He just wanted some money, so he gave a curt nod.

“How old are you?” the man asked. “How did you even get this?” The same question again.

Kakashi shook his head. “ _Excuse me_.”

“Ah, not much English, hm. You’re Japanese?”

Kakashi nodded, just to make this easier and quicker.

“Alright. I think I can give you 90 £ for it.” The man sighed. “I’ll be honest. Doesn’t feel right to pull a boy over the barrel. You’d get more for it in London… or bloody hell even Norwich. But I can give you 90 £.”

Kakashi understood only half of that. Though he might keep in mind, that he could try selling another kunai in this London or Norwich, if he ever got there. “Okay, 90 £” he said. If he remembered correctly from his time in Cromer that was not a lot, but nothing to scoff at either. And he really needed some money. The first city he’d see, he’d planned to buy new clothes, to better fit in. But that hadn’t worked out so well, once he’d learned that his money was useless here.

“Alright.” The man handed him a few bank notes.

He went straight from the weapons and history stuff shop to the next place where they sold clothes. Not willing to let Shaggy suffer outside alone for long again, he quickly picked a rather boring dark green shirt with a small symbol of a wave or – or maybe a upside down U-letter? – over the heart. He paid 20 £ for that and then after short consideration entered a third shop. A pet shop.

After all, he had decided that the guy over in Metton had been right. Not regarding the leash, but he should at least put some sort of collar on the dog. This way, he just looked like a stray, and back in Cromer, he’d been referred to as such a few times, and people had made to shoo him away, until they’d realized he was with Kakashi. Something to show, he belonged, wouldn’t be bad, Kakashi thought.

He had no need to look for the cheapest, or most beautiful one that struck his fancy. Instead he took the next best, that looked wide enough for Shaggy, even after he’d hopefully gain a few pounds. However, when he showed the collar to Shaggy outside the shop, the dog growled, crouched, whined. His eyes widened to huge circles and he was shaking like a leaf, the way Kakashi had last seen it when he first found the dog. As Kakashi made to grab for him, the dog actually snapped at him. Kakashi pulled his hand back in time, but he was still surprised by the reaction.

“It tried to bite!” Somebody cried next to Kakashi. “That poor boy. The dog is too big for him.”

Then Shaggy jumped backwards, hunched in, and growled threateningly. Sighing, Kakashi put the collar back into his pouch. “Alright,” Kakashi grumbled, showing his now empty hands. “We don’t do now.” But instead of calming down, Shaggy made a halfway turn and dashed away through the street. A woman cried, as the dog almost ran her over, then a shop owner yelled in anger, when Shaggy bumped against the table outside his shop. Expensive leather bags fell all over the street.

“ _Ah damn_ ,” Kakashi grunted, hurrying to the man. “I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized and started collecting the bags at a speed that was only slightly above normal civilian speed. He sat the bags back down on the table and looked around that he hadn’t missed any.

“Your luck, nothing worse happened,” the shop owner grumbled. “Next time we start with a smaller one, nah?”

Kakashi gave him a tight smile, before he turned looking for Shaggy. But he was out of sight.

Sighing, Kakashi followed his lingering scent. On the way back, he bought a newspaper at a kiosk. Their nightly reading ritual, he felt, had always helped calm the dog down a little, even after more exciting days or frustrating hunts. He also picked up some vegetable for himself and the dog.

He found Shaggy curled into himself under a bush a bit outside the town. He was hiding his snout under his paws and he was still shaking. Shaggy must’ve smelt Kakashi’s approach, yet all he did, was curl a little tighter, as if he didn’t want to see him.

“Mah,” Kakashi hummed, tickling the dog’s head. “No collar,” he said. “I just not want you be kicked when not with me. Collar would show you are my.” But his explanation didn’t help to alleviate whatever fears he might have woken in the dog. Instead Shaggy started whining bitterly.

Kakashi scooted closer on his knees, until he knelt right next to Shaggy. This time the dog reacted. He moved the head a little bit towards him, blinked up at Kakashi with regretful eyes, then he bumped the snout against his knee, the way he’d sometimes do to show his affection. Kakashi had a different idea. He still didn’t like Shaggy looking like he belonged to nobody. “Something else?” He was aware of how the dog watched each of his movements, so he moved slow, as he pulled his own headband out of his pouch.

“I have this here…” he pointed at his forehead. “Over my eye. It’s like scarf for you.”

He held it a little closer, so the dog could sniff it and decide what he wanted. Kakashi was sure, Shaggy understood. Shaggy always understood.

Finally, Shaggy lifted his head towards Kakashi, allowing him to tie the soft cloth around his neck. The metal plate weighed it down, but it was wide enough to not be constricting in any way. “Very good, big boy,” Kakashi applauded.

*****

After Aylsham they walked the rest of the day without incident, until Shaggy seemed to get tired on his paws. Kakashi found a nice resting spot between two large rocks right at a small river. Shaggy happily jumped into the river, playing around. Kakashi sat down to wash the vegetables and then offered it all raw. He needed a pot sometime soon. The first few days, he had eaten soldier pills, but now that a week had passed and he had not found a way to go home, he had slowly accepted the possibility that it might take him longer than expected to return to Konoha. He needed to keep the soldier pills for emergencies.

“Shaggy!” He called waving towards the stack of vegetables.

The dog looked over, stopped his playing, and trudged towards him to eat. The stack was quickly gone. Kakashi frowned. Shaggy hadn’t gained as much weight as he had hoped for. The malnourishment had to have been severe for such little improvement to show. And yet still, amazingly, he hadn’t eaten anything yet, that Kakashi hadn’t offered to the dog. It was a sort of discipline he might be expecting from his own ninken, not from a stray dog, no matter how intelligent it seemed.

Shaking his head, he took the newspaper, he had bought. “Convicted Mass-Murderer Sirius Black Suspected in Norfolk or Suffolk County. – Armed and Dangerous.” He read mildly interested. That was probably the guy the man in Metton had talked about. The newspaper rustled as he stretched it out a little, so he could read better. “Norwich/London. Friday night, July 23, 1993, Sirius Black escaped his high security incarceration. Now the police published concerns, that the convicted killer may be hiding along the coastal area of east central England. Police and the interior ministry warn that Black is armed and dangerous. Any sighting of him or other suspicious occurrence shall be reported to the police immediately. Citizens living along the coast of Norfolk and Suffolk are warned to stay alert. Please call the following emergency number if you know anything. The authorities offer a reward for hints that lead to the arrest of the convict. Black is armed and dangerous, please do not engage.”

Kakashi took a small sip of river water, from his waterskin. His eyes scanned the text again, trying to piece the bits of information he understood together. Then his gaze drifted to the dog. He only now realized that Shaggy – unlike normally had not come to rest his head on his lap. Instead he cowered low, curled together right at the river side, half hidden by one of the rocks they were camping between.

“What’s up, Shaggy?” he asked, but he received no reaction. Shrugging, he turned back to his newspaper. It had been an exciting day for the dog. Maybe he was tired. It would be understandable.

“In 1981, Black was convicted of murder in 13 accounts, aiding and abetting murder in two accounts and attempted murder of a baby.” Kakashi bristled at that. He could understand murder and attempted murder, but young children were difficult. He had never done that himself, though he had heard of other shinobi accidentally killing young children or killing a child after they had already killed the mother, thinking it would otherwise starve. “As well as aiding and abetting a known terrorist orga—”

He stopped as a high-pitched whine reached his ears. Kakashi looked over to the dog. He was shaking again. He folded the newspaper, but in a way, that the article was still on top, so he could continue reading it in quiet. He had understood a decent bit of it and was surprised himself. Learning languages, he decided, was a rather fun and rewarding experience.

“Sleep,” he told Shaggy.

The dog whined again. And he didn’t stop for a whole while. At first, Kakashi thought, he might suffer from some pain Kakashi hadn’t noticed. He didn’t remember anything during their trip, but maybe he had injured himself jumping through the water. Or there had been a vegetable he couldn’t digest correctly in the mix. Kakashi crawled a little closer, hovering a hand over the shivering body. It was only then, that he realized, that the dog was indeed asleep. He was…dreaming? Did he have a nightmare?

Kakashi sometimes had the feeling that the dog slept fitfully. Kakashi did too. Honestly, he hardly slept at all. Kakashi always waited until exhaustion pushed him over the edge, which meant he might stay two or three days awake before he finally caught some sleep. And then he’d only sleep in bouts of four to five hours – even here where he didn’t feel threatened despite the murderer on the loose.

He looked back to the article. There was an image of Black. Shaggy black locks, pasty white skin stretching over a thin face with eyes lying deep in their holes. There was a sort of hysteria forever frozen on the picture. A manic energy, he sometimes saw in his own comrades after coming back from a horrible mission. Either a mission gone horribly wrong, or a mission objective that was so horrible from the start, that nobody could go away unscathed from that. If nothing else, one thing was clear from that picture: This man had seen horror. Looking into his eyes, glinting and forever frozen on camera, Kakashi felt he might be the first man in this entire country who could understand the first thing about what Kakashi himself had lived through. The horror’s he had seen. The horror’s he had committed.

KAKASHI! Rin’s voice screamed in his head.

He shook his head, trying to get rid of the memory. It’s no memory! She hadn’t screamed. She’d whispered, and barely that. It’s just in your head. Then he folded the newspaper again and put it aside. He watched the flames of their small fire flickering in the breeze that fought its way past the two big rocks. It would go out soon. Kakashi hadn’t built the fire to survive the night. He drew his legs in, hugged them close to his chest. The way the flames danced red and orange reminded him of the Kyuubi’s tails. The way the beast had ravaged the village. The way it had clawed a massive hole into Minato—

A whine, louder than the ones before made him flinch and turn around. It sounded odd. Less animalistic. More human. And then, there, right in front of his eyes, Shaggy, the big black starving dog, shifted. Turned and transformed.

The way his limbs and spine stretched, the way his joints shifted, it looked painful, but either the man was used to it or he didn’t feel anything after all. He didn’t wake. The dog that Kakashi had led around for just about a week and who had led him around the entire day today, vanished and in its stead was a man with tattered rags for clothes, so thin, Kakashi would swear there was nothing between ell and radius bone but a hollowed layer of leathery skin. A human cry escaped from chapped lips, then the man curled in similar to how the dog had curled in tight.

Maybe it was the unfamiliarity of the motion with his now human limbs, that made him wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uuuuuh so let's have the two meet for real now. The way Sirius reveals himself was rather anticlimactic, but unlike Peter, he's not quite used to actually fooling people ith his animagus form. So, I thought it could only be a matter of time, until he'd give himself away - especially considering he's deeply traumatized and has very bad dreams. Shifting for him is in many ways a defense mechanism now, so he might not always have complete control fo when it happens.  
> Also... there are some odd things when writing a man as a dog. One is that collaring a dog is fine, but doing the same to a man is deeply demeaning. Sirius likely wouldn't have minded if it weren't for his past traumas, and the fact that he basically spent the last dozen or so years locked up and chaned hand and foot. Sure he could slip out of the chains in his animags form, but he still wore the chains more often than not. the idea of getting collared is quite frightening for him. He feels horrible about having snapped at Kakashi, I think.


	5. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I posted the last chapte a few days early.  
> Anyway, Happy New Year.  
> It's time to let our two favorite dog peope meet. I hope you like it. (Also I tried uploading before but it didn't work... so if it's an accidental double upload, I apologize.)

In his dream he was back in Azkaban. He wasn’t sure if it was the idea of the collar, or the reminder of who he was, whether it was the fact that he now had confirmation that they were of course hunting for him… or the knowledge that they knew where he was.

Of course, they knew! Surely, they just calculated the waves and guessed where he might have been washed ashore. For a week, he had played this innocent little game. He’d played the boy and his dog with Kakashi. He’d craved his kindness, his caring…

But he didn’t deserve it now, did he?

Had he lost the goal out of his eyes? And what even was the goal?! Was he so arrogant? He didn’t really believe that he could fight the entire nation, that he could get passed the dementors, and passed the aurors, passed the teachers, Hogwarts’ very own security mechanisms and Dumbledore himself. They all knew him guilty. And wasn’t that what he was? Guilty of being a fool…

The most secure place in all of Great Britain, and he… what a fool he was.

He was back in Azkaban. Shackled, manacled, collared like an animal. Peter would kill Harry, and Remus and everything Sirius still held dear. He wouldn’t be able to protect anybody. Just like he hadn’t protected James and Lily. He’d die hated, a traitor, a murderer, his best friend’s killer! A fool.

He could smell them. He could feel the cold creeping into his bones. Dementors standing vigil in his dying moments. The only ones who cared to see him off. Once back in their grasp, they wouldn’t let him go again. The first one to ever escape Azkaban… Yeah right! Because nobody else was fool enough to try. Only him. In that regard at least, his parents had it right… Arrogant little fool.

They wouldn’t let him shift into Padfoot anymore. They’d make sure of it; take the one reprieve he had left… In his dream he shifted again. Back to human. Back to Sirius Black, the disappointment to the Black family, the traitor to the order and the killer to his friends. He’d spelled their doom. He’d—

He stared into a single curious grey eye. Something wasn’t right. He knew it immediately. His body felt off. His vision was off. He didn’t smell the coals of the dying fire or the river or the boy on the other side of the fireplace. The only thing he smelled was his own stinking body and the rags they had given him to wear 12 years ago and then only washed once a month, often enough not even that.

Wait… No!

He surged upright, sudden panic strangling his breath out of his throat.

_No! Please no!_

But he already knew, his prayers came too late. He was too tall. Human size. Standing upright, struggling to his feet. He was so unused to the height, his vision shifted, he overbalanced, fell back on all four, shaking. His hands. His filthy hands, right in front of his eyes. Caked in dirt. Human hands.

Kakashi – the boy – that kind child who had fed him and cared for him and called him a friend! The boy had jumped up, too, as Sirius had surged to his feet. Now, he stood towering above him. That young boy, kind and caring, who wasn’t fully grown yet. But with Sirius cowering on all fours, the boy looked down on him.

_Nonono! This shouldn’t have happened!_

_What did you think? Idiot! Fool! Of course, you couldn’t hide it forever._

“Sirius Black,” the boy said matter-of-factly his distinct accent still struggling with the two consonants ‘BL’ following one after the other. As if he had already accepted the reality, that a dog – his dog (Sirius still wore his scarf! It hung comfortably around his neck, and yet – now it felt constricting, like a heavy burden and responsibility he could not bear.) – had shifted into a man. “You.”

“No…,” Sirius said, still in denial. He wasn’t trying to lie. He wished… He wished desperately he could be anybody else. If he could just take a different name, a different face, for a few months, he could kill Peter, he could protect Harry. Maybe he could even make Moony see the truth. But he did not have that luxury. He was Sirius Black, convicted mass-murderer. A pitiful, hateful, guilty creature. He was a cursed and damned man, and no matter how much he wished for it, he could not change that fact.

“I see picture,” Kakashi remined him, turning the newspaper towards him, so he could see his own dirty, disheveled visage. It did not look like him. It looked like a madman.

He was a madman!

Sirius cowered down, hunched in. He didn’t know what to do. He’d been prepared to go to war with the entire country to get to Harry – no matter what, as long as Harry was safe at the end. And yet, he hadn’t even left Norfolk and this boy… Who had been kind and caring…

No… No! He couldn’t give up, now.

He lunged at the boy. The kid didn’t even have time to fight back. Perfectly still he looked up at Sirius, as the convict grabbed for his collar, then his neck, then…

_What by Merlin are you doing!? Do you want to kill an innocent child? The only person who had been kind to you in over a decade!_

How could he stand in front of Harry, or Remus, or himself… after killing a child who had been nothing but good to him?

_No… I cannot…_

His hands shifted from the boy’s neck to his shoulders down his chest until his fists shifted in the new green shirt that Kakashi had just bought earlier today. Sirius’ knees gave in. He did not know himself, if he was surrendering and admitting defeat or if he was simply out of energy. Maybe both. Both sounded right. His hands were raised and still knotted in Kakashi’s shirt. But his head was bowed deep, waiting.

***** 

Kakashi looked down at the man. He didn’t look quite identical to the man in the picture. The man in the picture looked younger, not much, but just enough to make a difference. The man in the picture, in all his hysteria and manic energy was terribly alive. This one though, the man kneeling in front of him…

Skin stretched tight over bone. Nothing but leathery sickly pale skin and bones. He had multiple rashes from bad hygiene where Kakashi saw it through the clothes and on his face. This man… captivity had left harsh scars on his body. Lines of suffering drawn deep into his face. And the starvation. This was a man who’d been meticulously starved for years, barely kept alive. Whereas in the picture, he looked sunken, this one, looked hollow. Hollow cheeks, hollow eyes. There was fear, surely, but no energy, no fight left. Kakashi had expected the attack sooner and when it happened, he had expected it to last longer, to at least be a decent attempt at his life. Sirius Black had supposedly murdered 13 people and helped kill two more. He had helped in the attempted murder of a baby, yet the mere idea of strangling Kakashi seemed to horrify him so much, that he gave up on the spot.

He was kind, Kakashi thought. Shaggy had been a kind dog. One who craved affection. One who had tried to make him laugh.

This revelation, it certainly explained a lot. The intelligence, the behavior, the malnourishment, the fear of the collar, the fear whenever the discussion turned to the escaped convict. He didn’t quite understand, how he had done it – this transformation was no jutsu he knew and there was no chakra involved. He had shortly glimpsed at it with his Sharingan, as the dog was still asleep and turning into a human… But these technicalities aside, Kakashi now understood a lot better.

However, one thing did not seem to fit… This man didn’t have the energy of a murderer. Kakashi had met many killers in his life. There were differences between a callous sadistic murderer, a meticulous assassin, a coldblooded killer, or a soldier of war. Kakashi had met them all, and yet this man did not look like either.

Shaggy had been gentle! A gentle dog! Would the man be any different?

Kakashi grabbed the wrists where they were twisted into his shirt. He pulled just a little bit, but Sirius let go of him as if he’d been burned.

“I’m sorry,” the man whispered towards the ground.

Kakashi felt rough skin, welts, and old scars at the wrists, were manacles must have dug into his skin for years. He let go of them. The man automatically pulled his hands closer to himself. Then without a word, he frantically started fumbling with the headband he was still wearing around his neck. He was having trouble with the knot. Ultimately, he got it loose. He lifted his eyes with the piece of cloth as he held it for Kakashi to take.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius Black repeated. “I reckon you want it back.” Kakashi took it without a word.

There were no tears in Black’s eyes, but his voice trembled through dry and split lips.

No wonder, Kakashi thought, that a week of dog-portions hadn’t done much to help with the man’s starvation. There was a human body underneath. He’d been trying to feed a tall adult man back to health with the portion sizes for a sick dog.

“How you do it?” he asked curiously.

The man looked up questioningly.

“How you become to dog?” Kakashi specified.

****** 

Azkaban. It would be right back to Azkaban for him, he knew. He could flee now. He would, as soon as the boy left for the next muggle-auror ‘police’ station. Kakashi might go back to Aylsham, the town he knew. They had a small station there. Or he’d even follow the signs to Norwich. They weren’t far away now. Kakashi was smart, he’d find a way. And he’d tell them, that Sirius could turn into a dog. Of course, muggles would not believe him, but the kid was smart, and he’d find some way to be heard. All he’d need was the ear of a single witch or wizard and Sirius’ secret and his best bet to reach Harry or Hogwarts undetected was out.

He could run as fast as he wanted, he knew he would not make it. They would find him. They would know what to look for—

Kakashi grabbed him at the wrists. Sirius’ trembling stilled at that. Then at the slightest tuck, Sirius understood. He let go of the shirt. Of course, … The dirty hands of a traitor, a murderer. Who’d want to be touched by that? Had he left stains on the boy’s neck, he wondered? Dirty smears of earth and mud? They’d be invisible against the dark cloth of Kakashi’s mask, but be there, nonetheless.

_You’re innocent._

He apologized in a tiny voice, drew his hands in, then he tried to open the knot of the cloth Kakashi had tied around his neck. It had smelled of the boy, he remembered. He’d nuzzled his snout in it before he’d fallen asleep. The reminder, that there was somebody who cared for him – if not for him personally, but for the dog Shaggy. Of course, that too was only temporary. Now, he could not smell the boy’s scent anymore, his human nose unable to detect it, and he also did not have the boy’s trust anymore, anyway.

He managed to open the knot and handed the cloth over. The metal plate bumped uselessly against his arm. Now that it was dark, the engraving he had only shortly glimpsed there earlier – a swirly sign a bit like a leaf – wasn’t visible anymore. He apologized again.

“How you do it?” the boy asked calmly… Calmly, so incredibly calm.

Do what? Sirius wondered. His head sunk a little longer, not understanding the question. Fled from Azkaban? But the boy didn’t know of Azkaban. The murder? How had he done the murder? Or—

“How you become to dog?”

Oh… that. Of course, that would be the most interesting thing to the boy. And how should he explain. Could he even? The boy was a muggle, knew nothing about magic, wasn’t allowed to learn anything about it. The Statute of Secrecy—

Sirius’ shoulders shook in silent laughter. Yeah right! Why not break the Statute of Secrecy? He was a convicted murderer, sentenced to a life locked away in Azkaban already. What else could they do to him. The Dementor’s kiss? At least, he’d have the pleasure to break the law once, before they put him back into his hole for the rest of his life.

“I’m not allowed to tell you,” he laughed, his voice bordering on maniac. “It’s against the Statute,” he chuckled madly, “the Statute of Secrecy. Kakashi.” It was the first time he said the name. It felt foreign on his tongue, but he felt fondness as he said it.

He looked up at the boy only shortly, not wanting to see the condemnation in that single normally so bored eye.

“I’m a wizard, Kakashi. Magic is real.“ He smiled. “Can you believe it? If I had a wand, I’d show you.” He stopped talking then.

“What is the _jutsu_?” the boy said.

Jutsu? Sirius did not know that word, and it occurred to him, that Kakashi had likely only understood half of what he’d said just now. He’d broken the law – look at that! – and the muggle he’d broken it too didn’t even understand it! Suddenly, the grotesqueness and despair of the situation reached the boiling point. He laughed. A loud and barking laughter, bellowing across the river and over the empty fields behind the rocks. Hopefully there was nobody in the vicinity to hear— and if? Let them hear! He was doomed regardless. Had not even made it out of Norfolk – pathetic!

The last time he had laughed like that, he remembered, had been the day of his arrest.

_“James and Lily! How could you!” The bang, the blood, the smoke and destruction. For a moment he felt regret, that he had only extended the shield charm over his own body, instead of trying to protect the muggles around them. He hadn’t thought—He hadn’t thought that Peter would blow up the entire street. He’d prepared for a duel! Fool! Fool! Peter, come back here!_

But he had not screamed for his former friend to come back, instead he had laughed, hysterically, maniacally. He’d understood it then. Peter’s plan. The genius of it, and how he had underestimated his own friend. The man he’d called a friend until that day. A set up. A trap Sirius had stepped in like a fool. Like a blind idiot. He’d still laughed as the aurors apprehended him, as they dragged him through the ministry corridors, as he waited in a holding cell for just an hour or two and then as they apparated him again, straight to the coast. By the time they pushed him on the small dingy boat, in a way that his shackled feet weren’t able to follow, so he’d fall face first on hard wet wood, his laughter had dissolved into choking sobs, but it did not make a difference.

It had taken almost a week for him, to realize, to understand and for it to break through his denial, that James was dead, that Lily was dead, that Harry was an orphan, that Peter had betrayed them and fled, that Remus would be told Sirius was the traitor, that he was now in Azkaban, and that he would remain there. Nobody would come to bring him in for a trial or further investigation or even a single interview. They had dumped him into his cell, and he would remain there for the rest of his life, hated and forgotten, innocent yet guilty of the deaths of his friends.

At least this time. This time, he knew what was happening. This time, he’d know when they’d push him back on that boat… He’d know his fate.

His eyes opened from where he had them scrunched shut, and then—

There as something swirling red and black like he’d never seen before...

He felt warm. Warm, comfortable, painless. The hunger cramps he’d been suffering from for years now, where gone, leaving only a numb emptiness in their wake. He felt good. Even the panicked hysteria was gone. He felt short cut grass under his body, the grass tickling his skin. He could smell the flowers the way he’d normally only be able to when transformed to Padfoot. There were insects, flies, bees and butterflies dancing in the air. He heard dogs barking in the distance… There was something unreal about this scene. Spring, he knew. This was a scene of spring. But it was July!

Surreal... Was he dreaming?

But he knew his dreams. His dreams were dark and cold and full of despair. There were no meadows, or bees or butterflies in his dreams. Not the warm breeze in his hair, or sunlight on his skin. Just cold stone walls, iron bars, shackles, icy saltwater spray, storms, fear, and death. Whispers of the past, of dead friends, and traitors and the hateful abandonment of the living.

And yet it _felt_ like a dream. What else would it be? This painless, fearless existence, where he felt no hunger, no worries, no despair. Azkaban seemed so far away.

It was spring! How could it be spring?

He had dreams like this before. Rarely, during his happiest days in Hogwarts. Almost, he was inclined to turn around, to look if James was waiting behind him, waving him over to run free, run wild, to shift and tumble around in the flowers. Would Remus be there too?

But when he turned, there was nobody.

Maybe it was better that way. Remus would only have cold condemnation for him and James… Did he blame him too? Had he cursed Sirius, in his last moments, why the fool had fallen for Peter’s spiel? He shook his head.

_Don’t think about it!_

He should not summon the clouds. Happy dreams, he remembered from the few he had in his childhood, were fragile… Yet, no matter how long he was there, lying on fresh grass, warmed by the sun, no cloud ever came.


	6. VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit, when I first started writing this, I thought 'who the hell would even be interested in this?' so I was really overwhelmed when there was so much support! I hope you like where I take this. Currently I'm preoccupied trying to figure out how to best get Kakashi to meet some of the other characters.

## 6

When he blinked his eyes open, the sky was already brightening up again. It wasn’t quite sunrise, but the dark of the night was lifting for a lighter grey. He was confused. What had he just seen? He remembered meadows and butterflies and the sun on his skin. He remembered it as if it had been real, not a dream. It felt more real than the memory of the boy asking how he’d done it, how he’d shifted into a dog…

The boy!

Panicked, Sirius jumped upright, looking around. He was gone! Gone to the authorities! He already had a head start. Hours must’ve passed and he could already be in—

There he was. Leaning with his back and head against the rock, watching Sirius carefully with his single exposed eye. Sirius stared at him, confused. Why was he still there?

“I’m sorry,” Kakashi said in his broken English. He had one hand resting above the bandages over his left eye. “You was laughing. I did…” He shook his head, clearly unable to find the words to explain what he wanted to say.

“You’re still here?” Sirius asked instead of wrecking his mind about what the kid might be apologizing for. “I thought for sure you’d be gone.”

The way the boy’s eye rested on him in this scrutinizing calm manner was unnerving.

He had prayed for that, Sirius remembered. Something itched in Sirius’ guts. All these years, he’d hoped, he’d begged that there might just be one person, who wouldn’t immediately condemn him. Who’d give him a chance to explain. Now this kid… Now that, he had evidently found somebody who didn’t turn tail and run immediately, it was unnerving. Because…

Wasn’t that what he was supposed to do? The natural thing to do. As much as Sirius wished for somebody to give him a chance, wouldn’t the natural thing for any child, for any teenager, for anybody be, to flee? Kakashi should be running, should be alerting the authorities. Yet, he sat there. He didn’t even scoot far away from Sirius. If Sirius wanted too, he could be upon the boy in a matter of seconds. What would a teenager do against that? Even one like Kakashi who had odd skills, like jumping off trees and running around with feather light steps. If Sirius were armed, the way the muggle papers had claimed… Godric, if he had a wand!

“Are you not afraid, I would kill you?” The question just slipped out.

The boy’s brows furrowed a little. Obviously trying to translate as accurately as possible. Then his single eyebrow lifted, and his eye closed in an odd mockery of the smile he sometimes gave. The one that was well hidden behind the mask and only evident in the curve of his single eye. “Can’t kill me,” he said simply.

Sirius blinked surprised at the certainty in his voice. He was sure it was just a matter of his bad handling of the language. Maybe the boy had seen the hesitation and despair in Sirius’ eyes as he had tried to strangle him. Maybe he thought that Sirius could not bring himself to do it.

“How can you be certain?” Sirius asked anyway, but Kakashi seemed to have no interest to answer his questions anymore.

“Why did you…?” Kakashi asked. His brow furrowed. “Try kill baby.”

Sirius stared at him. The words needed a moment to trickle into his brain and make sense there. “Oh,” he made a small sound, as he drew his knees in, hugging them tight to his chest. “I didn’t,” he said simply, his eyes watching the way the sky slowly brightened up. “I’m innocent.”

He prepared himself for the accusations. For the angry tone, demanding a truth Sirius could not give. For disbelief and denial, anger and hatred. But it didn’t come. Maybe it was different, because Kakashi hadn’t known Lily and James, because he didn’t even know Voldemort, knew nothing of their war or their world overall. Just a stranger, who barely knew anything at all, who – now that Sirius thought about it, had probably only understood half of the article he had read just yesterday and had nobody to tell him what to believe yet. Maybe… Yes, maybe this was his first and only chance, to tell his story to somebody who was as close to neutral as anybody could possibly be regarding his person. Maybe this was Sirius’ chance to explain himself.

“This child,” he started, “is my best friend’s son.” He looked over to Kakashi. There was no condemnation in that single eye, Sirius thought, just quiet curiosity and hard concentration, trying to translate Sirius’ words in his head. “You know ‘friend’? My best friend. His child.”

“You wanted… son of friend dead?”

“NO!” Sirius retorted to loud, a little angry, that Kakashi had not even understood the first part. Angry at himself.

_Simple words! Use simple words!_

“I didn’t! I’m innocent. That’s what innocent means. I was imprisoned for it… locked up, but I didn’t do it.”

“Innocent.”

A bloody language lesson! Was that what this was for Kakashi? Frustration gnawed at Sirius’ insides.

“Son of friend is alive, then?”

“Yes,” Sirius breathed his anger quickly subsiding. “But my friend died. His wife. ‘Wife’ is… when a man and woman marry and start a family?” he blushed a little feeling stupid.

“Man and woman,” Kakashi repeated, “the woman is ‘wife’?”

Thank Merlin, he was a smart kid. “Yes,” Sirius said. “James, my friend. His name. And Lily. His wife. We were in a war.” War? How would he explain ‘war’? The boy looked at him curiously, as if he was waiting for an explanation. “A conflict, when two groups kill each other for reasons… Like an idea or… land?” he said helplessly. Wars for territory, he assumed were easier to understand for a muggle child, than wars for ideas. He thought he’d failed. It would be – and should be – a pointless endeavor to explain the concept of war to a child in a foreign language.

“I know war,” Kakashi said.

Sirius looked up at him doubtfully. The boys voice had been serious and certain, yet that might also be explained by a mistranslation. However, when he looked into that single grey eye, he got nothing. There was a sort of distant boredom, nothing for Sirius to deduce whether he knew what he had just said. Nothing for him to latch on to.

Still, it was easiest to take the boy’s words at face value. Even if he didn’t understand completely, it was easier to just run with it. “Voldemort,” somehow, he expected the boy to flinch at the name, but there was no reaction whatsoever – of course not, “he’s a dark wizard… the enemy from the other side.” He saw Kakashi mouth a word behind his mask. ‘Enemy’ he assumed. Still a bloody English class. Sirius shook his head trying not to get distracted. “Voldemort tried to kill James’ family. They were hiding. Hiding…” he had no energy to explain what hiding was. “But a friend betrayed them. Not me… a different friend. I wouldn’t have…” He glanced at Kakashi pleadingly, looking if he saw doubt in the boy’s single eye, but there was only hard concentration.

Kakashi was still translating. Sirius didn’t know if it was the word ‘hiding’ that had thrown him off or ‘betrayed’, but he had no patience left. The boy was unbelievably smart, he knew. It was not his fault he knew so little of the language. He was doing his best learning and doing magnificently, but Sirius didn’t have the energy to explain everything. Telling the story itself left him frazzled, tired and frustrated. Having to find roundabout ways to describe the most horrific events in his life, using words that ultimately made what he had lived through sound so much more harmless, almost mundane, it was difficult.

Without further explanation he simply continued. “I hunted the traitor down. When I found him, he killed thirteen mug… people. Thirteen people, and he turned…” He shook his head, tired. “He turned into a rat. Like I turn into a dog, he can turn into a rat. He faked his own death. I was thrown into prison for all of it…”

Looking back to Kakashi and his single grey eye, he realized he had lost the boy. Kakashi had only understood half of it and he was still piecing together the words. Helplessly, Sirius hunched in on himself, resting his face on his knees. What was he doing? Telling the story to a boy who could not understand? A boy who wouldn’t even be able to understand, even if he spoke perfect English, because he was a muggle, and would have no understanding of the events that had transpired. And maybe that was for the better. Did Sirius really want to unburden his guilt on some teenager, who was nothing but kind to him?

“Believe me,” he looked to Kakashi one final time, trying to muster all the conviction he had. “I didn’t do it. I would not – I would never betray my friends like that. I would rather die! If I could, I would die to bring them back.”

There was something glowing in Kakashi’s eye. Something real and powerful and frightening. “I know…” the boy whispered, then he clamped his mouth shut, muffling all further sound.

Know…? Know what?

“I’d have killed myself, before I would have harmed them,” Sirius enforced, willing Kakashi to believe it.

“I believe you,” Kakashi finally said.

And with that, a stone fell off Sirius’ chest. He didn’t know how, didn’t know why this boy would believe him over the newspaper, why he would listen to him at all, but Sirius had done it. He had convinced somebody to believe in him. He actually had…

Kakashi believed that Sirius was innocent.

It was a freeing thought, a burden lessened off his shoulders. This kind and caring boy…

_If I die now, there would be somebody to remember me as something other than a murderer and traitor. A dog maybe… or a starved convict with abysmal patience at teaching somebody the English language. Something else._

“Thank you,” he said and there were tears in his eyes. Quickly he wiped them away, but they kept coming. Embarrassed to cry in front of this child, he turned away, making himself small. With his back to Kakashi. “Thank you…”

******* 

Kakashi watched the dog-turned-man apparently-innocent-but-convicted mass-murderer. He was crying. Kakashi saw the first tears before Black turned away to wipe at his eyes. It irked Kakashi, jolted a forgotten memory. Obito had always cried… Like that. Subtle tears in the corner of his eyes, that he tried to hide away. Even his eye – the one Kakashi now had – had a curious tendency to tear up. Kakashi didn’t have a lot of experience with crying or criers. Just Obito – and, well, Guy cried loud wails whenever he was excited, but that was different. So, like with Obito, he expected Black to square his shoulders and turn back around to come up with some made-up excuse:

Dust in his eye.

Kakashi almost smiled at the memory. Only almost. Kakashi had mocked Obito for his apparent weakness, but ultimately it hadn’t been Obito who was weak. Kakashi had it all wrong. Crybaby or not, Obito had been the better shinobi, ultimately, and then he had wasted his life to safe Kakashi and Kakashi couldn’t even keep his promise…

Now all he had left of Obito was his easily tearing eyeball.

Absentmindedly, he touched the bandages over his eye.

Kakashi let the man be, until the quiet sniffles finally subsided. Black straightened back up, turned around, but no excuse came. No ‘dust in his eyes’ just a lopsided smile.

“Sorry,” Black muttered, “I’m normally not that…” He made a vague gesture with his left hand, the other tightly slung around his own knees.

“How did you turn dog?” Kakashi asked what he’d asked hours ago. Back then, Black had fallen into a hysteric state, laughing uncontrollably. Kakashi somewhat regretted having used the Sharingan to put Black into a genjutsu. He was reasonably sure, that this nation was far away from his home. So far, in fact, they saw kunai as a relic from the history of a far-away foreign country. Still, that didn’t mean they had no knowledge whatsoever. If the people of this country knew about the Sharingan and its powers, revealing it thoughtlessly might be to his disadvantage. Kakashi had made quite a name for himself in the last months of the war. It was rare for him now, to not be recognized. Most opponents he faced had a general idea of his skillset, even before he ever met them. It was a rare luxury to be incognito, so he shouldn’t throw that away and reveal his techniques easily.

He didn’t think Black would use it against him, but even so, he should be more secretive about where he came from and who he was. At least until he knew how he got here in the first place. He had decided that he would hide his identity when he’d first arrived here and finding out that this was not a country he knew, wasn’t reason enough to throw all caution into the wind.

He hadn’t wanted to use the Sharingan. Black’s behavior had moved him to do it. There’d been something rough and raw in the way the barking laughter had ripped out of him. Something beyond desperate. Kakashi already had him under the genjutsu before he himself even realized what he was doing.

“You didn’t answer,” Kakashi added when Black needed a moment to get his still wobbly voice under control.

“I’m a wizard.”

Kakashi had no idea, what that was.

Sheepishly, Black scratched his head. “I wished I had my wand to show you.” He stopped barked a short and dry laugh. “A wand would make everything so much easier.”

Kakashi had never heard the word ‘wand’ before, other than that one time before Black’s breakdown earlier. Only ‘wonder’ and ‘wandering’. He remembered a guy asking him what he was doing ‘wandering around alone’. But that didn’t fit in this context.

Finally giving up his head-scratching, Black shifted right in front of Kakashi for Kakashi to see. Subtly, Kakashi lifted his bandages a little, peering past them at the transformation with his Sharingan. The information his Sharingan sent him was a confusing mess. He had already seen this transformation once when Black shifted to a man in his sleep. But even seeing it a second time, didn’t answer any of his questions.

There was a sort of energy, Black was using for his technique, but it wasn’t chakra, and Kakashi’s Sharingan was unable to clearly detect it. It was definitely there, though, flickered around the man like a thin shapeless and colorless haze. It had nothing of the tightly concentrated coils of chakra in a shinobi. Unlike with the Byakugan, with the Sharingan he couldn’t see the exact path of the chakra within the chakra network, but he could normally still see it curling and burning inside and around the body, especially when a shinobi used their chakra for a jutsu. There was nothing of the like here.

Just this hint of a mist that vaguely flickered as Black transformed into a dog and back again within seconds. It was nothing, Kakashi had ever seen, no genjutsu, he was sure, but no ninjutsu either, or his Sharingan would be able to grasp and understand it. Even if it was a Kekkei Genkai his Sharingan should at least be ablet detect something.

He pulled the bandage down again, as Black transformed back, not giving the man an opportunity to really see the Sharingan eye. Nature chakra, he guessed in an attempt to find something he could compare this strange technique to. He’d only seen Minato use sage mode twice, and that was similar in that Kakashi couldn’t see the chakra as it was gathered, but it would form a sort of cloudy mist around Minato-sensei, as he would absorb it all in. Even with nature chakra though as soon as it was released to form jutsu – although the Sharingan couldn’t copy it without him learning to use sage mode first – his Sharingan would be able to at least detect the jutsu.

That was troublesome, he thought somewhat annoyed. If these people knew some form of jutsu he didn’t understand that would make things more difficult. For a brief moment, he considered if everybody in this country could use this odd energy, or if at least all the villages were protected by some form of guardian, army or patron to protect them from invasion. Was that the reason they seemed so relaxed and at peace? Because they trusted these ‘wizards’ to keep them safe? He’d walked through these villages and towns for several days now and had never seen a hint of wizardry before. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t all use it. He himself had hidden his jutsu as well.

In any case, this transformation was solid. Even the scent changed, although Black retained a distinctly human note in dog form, and still smelled a bit of dog in human form. In fact, in human form, he smelled exactly like a civilian from the Inuzuka clan who hadn’t showered in a while.

“What else can you do?” he asked. “With ‘wand’.” He tested the word on his tongue.

Black smirked a little at the question. It looked almost mischievous. “Almost anything,” he answered without pause. No concern whatsoever to share his skills with a virtual stranger. “I can make things fly or transform objects and people or animals. It helps with cooking, too, and all sorts of menial chores.” He gave a shrug. “Some wizards can even fly with just their wands, though not me.”

“Why not you?” Kakashi wondered if it was a family trait. When Black said ‘almost anything’ did he mean that there were no such things as blood lines? Could every wizard do all this – turn into animals and such things.

“Never learned it,” Black admitted. He grimaced. “It’s not on the Hogwarts curriculum, and after that… I didn’t exactly have time to learn new tricks.” His face and mood dropped. “The ministry broke my wand.”

Kakashi’s ears were ringing, trying to keep up. What was a Hogwarts, or a curriculum? Or ‘the ministry’?

Black seemed to understand his confusion. “Hogwarts is a school for magic.” And with that, he started explaining. Black said a lot about a lot of things, and Kakashi had trouble keeping up with translating and making sense of things. He was used from years as a shinobi, to be given information only once and be expected to remember it, yet now he found himself struggling. The added challenge of translating, and learning new words as they went along, while listening and remembering what Black had to say about a world that was completely foreign to Kakashi was almost too much for him.

It’s hard, he thought. Challenging.

He almost snickered as he had the sudden idea to propose ‘learning a foreign language’ the next time, Guy asked for a challenge. They both might even take something out of this, and he’d have Guy out of his hair for at least a few weeks. He didn’t think Guy would be too happy about it, though. Then again, the other boy just craved a challenge and had never cared much about the kinds of challenge Kakashi set. That was – of course – assuming the boy forgave him about leaving him hanging after propositioning the race.

“The current minister is Cornelius Fudge,” Black ended his explanation, his face drawn and tired from the effort of spoon feeding the condensed knowledge of the magical world into a boy who barely spoke any English at all. He scowled, as he mentioned the name.

Kakashi’s eyebrows rose curiously at the way Black angrily spat out the name.

“I don’t like him,” Black admitted, “don’t like any of them. They just…” But he didn’t finish the sentence.

If he indeed was innocent, Kakashi assumed it was reasonable to dislike the people who put him into prison and let him rot in his cell for years.

“He even…,” Black started again, then his eyes widened, his mouth opened a little in surprise, and he quickly searched through the rags he wore for clothes. The faded out striped pattern made it obvious that those were once his prison garbs, though they didn’t deserve that name now. With trembling hands, Black fished a wrinkled and ripped paper from between his haggard hips and a tightly bound waistband. Kakashi got a short glimpse of a tattoo, as the cloth moved up and revealed part of his sunken in belly. He had several more tattoos on his body, Kakashi had already seen. There was a big one where the shirt had ripped wide open around the collar, showing the faded black symbols over pale whit skin and starkly prominent ribs.

“Fudge gave me this,” Black finally finished his sentence, unfolding what Kakashi now saw was a page from a newspaper. His hands were shaking as he turned it so Kakashi could see the big picture prominent in the top center of the page. It was of a nine people. Two middle-aged adults, seven younger adults surrounding them. There were certain shared similarities in their facial features, and the way they smiled, that made Kakashi assume they were one big family. The youngest couldn’t be much younger than him, the oldest looked almost Minato-sensei’s age. Seven children all making it to adulthood was almost unheard of to Kakashi.

Yet, it wasn’t the people directly that drew Kakashi’s attention. It was the newspaper itself. The picture was moving. The group was waving and smiling into the camera, some of the boys brotherly pushing and shoving each other. The letters below on the paper were just as strange. Some of the text was written in paragraphs that chaotically crawled all over the page. Some parts of the newspaper even seemed to shift between different articles, alternating between, what Kakashi assumed where ads or maybe letters from readers. He could barely read any of it at all, as it used a horribly squiggly font similar to the one, he had seen at the antiques shop the day before.

Fascinated, Kakashi took the newspaper to inspect it more thoroughly. Yet, when he grabbed it Black wouldn’t let go. His hand was still shaking, Kakashi noted.

“Ah…,” Black let go of the paper. It looked like it took a lot of effort to do so. Empty handed, he balled his shaking hand into a fist at his side. “Sorry.”

Kakashi glanced at him, then turned back to the newspaper. He inspected the way the family moved on the picture for a while before he finally pulled his bandage up just enough that he could peer through it with the Sharingan. Nothing… He saw nothing, not even the hazy mist of some form of energy that he had seen when Black shifted to a dog. “That’s magic?” he asked in wonder, straightening his bandage back out again. He turned the paper around. There was another picture of two people flying on broomsticks around a golden metal pole. He shook his head utterly stunned by the very concept of these odd moving pictures – and people flying on broomsticks?

Then he handed the paper back to Black, thinking, it might be important to him, if it was the only thing, he took with him as he broke out of prison – he didn’t even wear shoes. Never mind the way he had only let go of the paper with conscious effort.

Black took it, but his eyes were on Kakashi. He frowned worriedly. “Is something wrong with your eye?” He looked right at the bandages. “When you ate, I saw your scar, so I thought, you might have lost it in an accident or something,” he guessed. Kakashi remembered that indeed he had eaten and pulled down his mask in front of the dog. “But you keep fumbling with the bandages.”

Kakashi blinked in surprise at the worried tone. He was used to see a lot of people covering their scars or certain features about them in bandages. Sometimes because they were used to it, sometimes for fashion, most of the times, because the scars would either reveal something about them, they didn’t want to share, or because - like him – they hid a special skill from sight. In his case, the Sharingan also drained his chakra when he didn’t cover it. In any case, it was very common to see people wear bandages where he came from. It was also very common to see people injured.

Yet, he didn’t remember the last time, anybody asked about his eye, or even any of his actual injuries. Minato-sensei of course, showed some concern – though it had always annoyed Kakashi, because it just proved that Minato had still seen him as a child. But for the most part, at least in ANBU it was assumed, that if a wound was bandaged up, and the wounded wasn’t already bleeding through the cloth, then he was probably fine, and there were bigger concerns.

“Mah,” made Kakashi both surprised that Black would ask about it, and also a little annoyed, as he felt – like with Minato – that Black was only worried because he saw him as a child still. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing. I lost the eye.” It was a convenient half-truth, and as Black had already guessed as much, he likely wouldn’t question it. “It sometimes itches.”

It had been itching all the time since Rin and then nonstop after Minato-sensei’s death. It had stopped now.

Sirius looked at him for a moment, seeming doubtful, but then with a sort-of shrug, he looked back down to the picture. “He’s in Hogwarts,” he mumbled to himself.

Hogwarts, the school… Kakashi had no idea, who he was talking about. He assumed the people on the picture would be his family – though there was no physical resemblance – or maybe one of them was the friends he’d talked about. In any case, they must be important to Black. Kakashi’s own most prized possession was a photo as well. The picture of his team – Team Minato – from when they were first formed. He was the last person on that picture still alive. Kakashi hadn’t even dared look at it since sensei’s death.

“Who is in Hogwarts?” he asked curiously. Normally, he would not pry like that, but Black seemed willing, if not eager to share information. Kakashi himself would rather die before he would reveal so much information about his home country and his people. Yet, Black seemed to share everything with an odd glee in his eyes.

They were alive now, not hollow anymore. In his eyes Kakashi could read an overwhelming wave of emotion. It was so strong it was hard to read. An odd mix of everything positive and negative under the sun. Kakashi even thought, he saw mischief there.

Now, however, as he had asked the question, Black pressed his lips tight. He seemed reluctant to answer, but then, he let the breath whistle from his lungs. “The rat,” he said as if that would explain everything.

Kakashi peered at the picture in Black’s hands that was upside down for him now. This time, he ignored the smiling family and the pyramids in the background. Instead he searched the picture, until he found the rat perched on the shoulder of one of the boys. The rat… It had to be the friend Black talked bout. The traitor who had put Black into prison.

“You are hunting?” he asked frowning in concentration. The rat looked like any other rat. It was missing a tiny claw, Kakashi saw, but on the picture, it didn’t look threatening or fake. Yet, that didn’t have to mean anything. After all, Kakashi had fallen for this dog-human-transformation for an entire week.

Black nodded, finally folding the picture back up and hiding it in his clothes. He wasn’t even wearing shoes, Kakashi thought not for the first time. “I’ll kill him for what he did. Harry, James’ son, is in Hogwarts too. He’s in danger.” He shook his head. Sadness was shining in his eyes. Whatever mischief and glee there had been earlier, it was gone now, but the dullness wasn’t back either. Instead Kakashi saw fierce determination. Kakashi felt his lips go dry. He swallowed.

There was something unnerving even for Kakashi at the image of two former friends destroying each other’s lives like that, hunting each other to death, hating each other. A friend killing another. But, of course, if one had betrayed their best friend… Was there a word for that?

_Friend killer._

_If Obito knew what you did. He’d hunt you down too. He should! He should hate you for it, curse and condemn you. You promised! You promised! And then you killed her with your own hand. You’re the worst scum. Doesn’t matter where you are. On the battlefield, in Konoha, among ANBU or in this strange country. The friend killer, the one who’d abandon their own comrades, the one who’d failed their own friends like that… That’s the worst scum. The lowest of the low._

Kakashi’s hands were shaking. He was glad that he’d already given the newspaper back to Black or it wouldn’t be that easy to hide. That way he quickly shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to calm down, trying not to think about it. At least that way, he couldn’t see the blood on his hands.

“He’s my godson,” Black whispered after a while. “Harry…I should’ve taken care of him after his parents died.”

Kakashi had no idea what a ‘godson’ was. And the sentence was too long and complicated for him to follow. Yet still, somehow, he understood the meaning regardless. This man, who’d been given no chance to ever see this Harry-child again, through no fault of his own, felt guilty for having abandoned him, felt responsible for protecting him now…

And yet, Kakashi… When the Hokage told him, he couldn’t take care of Naruto, Kakashi had almost been relieved. He’d barely fought it. He should have fought harder!

Naruto should’ve been his brother, instead Kakashi had left him for the village to take care of. He imagined the child. He didn’t even know what he looked like. Had he Kushina’s fiery red hair, or Minato’s bright yellow? Grey eyes or blue? Maybe a mix. Minato’s hair, but Kushina’s eyes? If he had Kushina’s temper the village would have their hands full.

Kakashi shook his head.

_Stay away from him. You would ruin that child. Good thing you’re apparently at least a continent away from him._

“I help,” he heard himself say. “Help find rat.”

And when he found him, he didn’t know what he would do. Would he kill the rat himself, or would he leave him for Black to do the deed? Or would he ask the rat how he lived with it? How he could live with the blood of his friends on his hands? Because Kakashi needed to know.


	7. VII

It wasn’t right, Sirius knew. There was a part of him, that was glad that Kakashi had offered his help. The task seemed less daunting, with another person around. Hogwarts and Surrey didn’t seem quite so far away now. But it wasn’t right, and he knew that. Kakashi was just a teenager. Sirius shouldn’t drag him into this mess. What would James and Lily say, if they knew he set a child Harry’s own age on a path to revenge that had nothing to do with the child itself?

Already, for Sirius himself, having decided that he would kill Peter was a big step. A daunting task. He’d never killed anybody, nor had he thought he ever would. Yet, dragging a teenager into this mess… That was something else entirely.

Still, he hadn’t argued very hard against it, when Kakashi offered his help. He didn’t have the energy for it. Part of him was so glad that he wouldn’t have to do this alone, that he couldn’t even muster a decent argument against it. Although there were a hundred arguments he could come up with in his head, none of them quite passed his lips. He felt like a coward for it. He couldn’t even really muster the decency to regret it. Sirius had always been a sociable person. The company was nice.

So, they continued their journey together, although Sirius knew they shouldn’t.

In the evening Kakashi found them a nice resting place in a small stretch of woods. The land was flat here, tall grass was hiding the dog away as soon as Sirius crouched down. He rather liked it. There was a river close by.

“Fishing,” Kakashi said, leaving Sirius where he was as he walked up to the shore. Curiously Sirius followed him. He hadn’t seen the boy fish yet. He’d seen him hunt, which was always exciting to watch. He used small knifes of that, something Sirius had never seen before. However, when he followed Kakashi, his steps seemed odd. Something in his scent made Sirius fur bristle. As if the boy was on edge. There was nothing obvious on his face or in his posture, though, just his scent and the way his steps weren’t quite so feather light anymore. Was he worried?

He said he believed Sirius being innocent. But maybe that was a lie? Told out of fear for his life if he didn’t play along. Sirius had even grabbed his neck in a moment of despair… it wouldn’t be a big surprise to find out the boy was still afraid of him. And why wouldn’t he be. All he had was the word of a madman.

Looking left and right and still hidden in high gras and the reeds along the shore, he turned back to his human form.

“Are you afraid?” he asked quietly watching the boy who now stood in knee high water.

Kakashi didn’t even look at him, focusing on the water. “Afraid?”

“Worried,” Sirius used a different word.

“I know ‘afraid’. Why you think?”

“Why _do_ you think _so_?” Sirius corrected automatically. Kakashi looked back at him. For a moment Sirius thought his corrections wasn’t wanted, but then Kakashi’s eye closed in his typical smile.

“Why do you think so?” Kakashi repeated after him.

“Your scent. I’m not sure,” Sirius admitted and pointed at his nose in case Kakashi didn’t know the word yet. “I have a keen nose.”

“Dog’s nose,” Kakashi said and there was a sort of amusement in his voice. Sirius couldn’t quite put his finger on it. As if there was some inside joke, he didn’t pick up on.

Sirius nodded. “Right. You smell on edge.”

“I smell worried?”

Sirius frowned a little. He wasn’t certain if the boy asked, because he didn’t know the meaning of ‘on edge’ or if this was a ploy to avoid the question. Every question Sirius asked, he got a question in return. “Ever since we passed Norwich,” Sirius specified. He wasn’t certain if that was when it had started. It had been the first time he had noticed, however. They hadn’t gone into the city. Sirius felt uncomfortable and unsafe in settlements. The bigger the worse was his anxiety, the fear of being found out. Still, the day before, Sirius had made it a point to lead Kakashi to the villages and towns in the surrounding area. It was the only way for the boy to learn English, never mind find his parents or travel companions. That was a different topic he should ask about.

Finally, Kakashi relented. “How many people are there in Norwich?”

The question was odd, besides the point and came out of nowhere to Sirius, still he tried to answer. He had never bothered to learn these things. “100 000 maybe,” he shrugged. He could only guess. They had only seen the outskirts and suburbs around the city, and he had never actually been there even before his imprisonment. Never mind that he didn’t bother learning the populations for muggel cities. “I don’t really know.”

Kakashi looked at him oddly, as if he was supposed to know. Sirius bristled a little at that. He’d been twelve years in Azkaban. Why would he know these things?

Thoughtfully, Kakashi looked back into the river. He made a few steps. Inward, until the water reached up to his hips. “Be careful,” Sirius warned half-heartedly. The water wasn’t deep, but he’d still rather not have the boy slip and fall in.

Kakashi didn’t react to his warning. “That’s much people.” His voice was impossible to read.

“Many,” Sirius stopped thinking. “Or a lot of people.” Then he shrugged once more. “I guess.”

“It’s the capital?”

Stunned, Sirius stared at the boy. The capital? He snorted. Very funny. “No, London is much bigger. I don’t even know… Five million?”

He heard a splash of water as the boy whirled around to stare at him. “Million?” he repeated his single eye wide open in surprise. He’d never seen Kakashi react so strongly to anything. “How?”

Sirius barked in laughter. “You must come from a tiny place,” he chuckled. Which begged the question… How did the kid not know that London was the capital? Being stuck alone in a country he did not speak the language of was one thing, not knowing where he was, was also curious… but he didn’t even know that London was the capital of Great Britain? Surely a smart boy like him would know that. Especially when he went to England for vacation.

Which was what Sirius assumed this was. The boy must have traveled here for vacation and then gotten lost, right? That was the only thing that made sense. Only it didn’t make sense at all, because wouldn’t the parents be searching for him, wouldn’t he be searching for them as well? Or his friends or travel group? What business would he have offering his help to Sirius instead of trying to get to the first muggle auror office, to get back home? Never mind that, from what he knew, there were some big cities in Japan. London was huge, but at least Norwich shouldn’t be that impressive to a fourteen-year-old Japanese kid. Even if he came from a smaller town.

“How did you get here?” Sirius asked finally. He should have asked this sooner.

Kakashi eyed him warily, then he turned back to the water and cursed quietly in his own language. The way he had splashed around earlier, all the fish had likely fled. (Not that Sirius knew how he intended to catch them this way. He didn’t have a net nor a fishing rod.) “I got lost.”

Sirius laughted. “Lost?” he repeated not believing it for a second. “What did you run away from your hotel? What about your parents?”

Kakashi didn’t answer. He stood still searching the water for fish.

“Your friends then, or a travel group? How did you get separated?” When the boy didn’t answer, Sirius growled in frustration. “Won’t they be worried.”

Kakashi peered at him. Behind the mask, Sirius couldn’t see his face, but the way the skin around the single eye tightened, he seemed to grimace. “I’m alone. But right, I should send where I am.”

Frustrated, Sirius let out a sigh. This didn’t answer any of his questions. How would the boy contact his family, if clearly, he had no means of communication? Never mind why hadn’t he already. At least, it was something, though. “Good,” he nodded. “Do you want to go back to Norwich for that? You could use a phone booth there.” Kakashi obviously had no idea what a phone booth was, and Sirius didn’t know how to explain it, as he barely understood the concept himself.

Kakashi shook his head. “No, I—” And then it all went very quick. His mouth snapped shut, his hand cut into the water, there was a surprisingly quiet splash, and then a fish came flying towards Sirius. “Don’t let it jump in water,” Kakashi instructed, as Sirius awkwardly struggled to catch the small trout.

“What just—” Sirius cried out, but the question stuck in his throat as he helplessly tried to get a hold of the fish. “How did you do that?”

“Not back to Norwich,” Kakashi said instead of answering Sirius’ most recent question. He still stood in the river. He stopped moving again, lurking for the next victim fish. “I do tonight, don’t worry.”

How should he not worry, Sirius thought a little miffed. There was a fourteen-year-old boy virtually alone and although Sirius appreciated the company, he knew Kakashi shouldn’t be here with him. “When we’re in London, you can get help,” he suggested. “I’m sure they’ll have some means to contact your home country.”

At that moment, Kakashi’s hand splashed into the water again, and another fish came flying for Sirius. This time, he was better prepared. Instantly, he shifted into the dog, swiped at the flying trout with his paw and then bit down on its head to kill it. When he turned back, he moved his jaw testily. There was still a taste of raw fish between his molars. Kakashi looked at him curiously.

“Can all make magic,” Kakashi asked after a while. “Five million in London?”

The sudden shift in topic back to the population size of London was jarring for Sirius. He was now almost certain that Kakashi for whatever reason didn’t want to share any information with him. “No,” Sirius answered anyway. He had no issue sharing what he knew. In fact, he quite enjoyed telling this boy everything he wanted to know about the magical world. If only to tell the magical world that they could go bite Sirius. All day, he had quite the fun, imagining Fudge’s purple angry face, knowing what Sirius had done just to spite him. Of course, he would never see it. He hoped not to at least – it would mean back to Azkaban for him. “We’re not many. I don’t know… maybe 100 000 in total. Probably even less. Most are muggles.”

“Muggles?”

“People without magic. Like you. You’re a muggle. You’re not supposed to even know of the magical world. Most don’t know anything about it.”

Kakashi followed his words with a very focused and concentrated eye. Now that he finally had his full attention, Sirius quickly added. “How did you find me a week ago?”

Kakashi’s brows furrowed a little. “You on coast. Hungry.”

“Yes,” Sirius agreed not needing a reminder of that. He was still hungry, starved and easily exhausted. But he didn’t feel that same gaping hole in his stomach anymore. “But how did you get there.”

“Foot.”

“On foot?” Sirius laughed. The boy had to be joking. He was intelligent enough to know that was not, what Sirius had asked. “Okay, you walked, from where?”

Kakashi peered at him for a long time. Then his eyes traveled down to the water. For a moment Sirius thought, he was trying to find the words to come up with an answer, then he jumped in surprise, when Kakashi’s hand slashed into the water again. He prepared for the fish to come flying, but nothing came. Instead Kakashi waded back to the shore. He shook his legs out. Trousers and sandals were sodding wet and some of the water even sprayed on Sirius. The boy held a third trout – the biggest one yet – in his left hand.

“How did you do that?” Sirius asked, seriously impressed. It had been one thing when he saw the boy throw a knife at a duck to kill it, earlier this week. The bird hadn’t been expecting anything and it was a slow bird anyway. Successfully catching three fish with his bare hands though… It ought to be impossible. He’d quite naturally assumed that the boy was a muggle, however, there was something magical about him. “You have to teach me one day. It seems nifty.”

Kakashi eyed him wearily, then he gave a half-hearted smile.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “Don’t know how got to you.” He shook his head. “Now I’m home, then in forest.”

Stunned, Sirius couldn’t help but stare at this explanation. “You just woke up here?”

“Yes, woke up in forest.”

Sirius shook his head. “But that makes no sense. Were you kidnapped?” But even that wouldn’t explain how he couldn’t remember anything about the journey. It must have been hours from Japan to somewhere in the middle of nowhere, Norfolk. They must have poisoned him or given him some sleeping drought. Maybe erased his memories? But why just leave the boy alone in some forest? None of this made sense. “Abducted,” he used a synonym when the boy didn’t understand. “Somebody took you against your will.”

“Don’t know,” Kakashi said with a half-hearted shrug that was unnerving. “Don’t think…kidnapped.” He had trouble using the word right, Sirius registered absentmindedly. Sirius’ thoughts however were still stuck on the half-hearted shrug. How could a kid be so casual about suddenly waking up in a foreign country? He should be panicked, crying, begging for his parents to find him. But he seemed just fine.

“Then what? You just teleported?” He meant it as a joke, but as his words were out, he suddenly realized, that might be the only option. Clearly, one could not just travel from Japan to Cromer, Norfolk in such a short time, that they wouldn’t even remember it. Clearly, if the boy had been kidnapped, he’d know, and his kidnappers wouldn’t just throw him out in some forest. Never mind there would likely be traces on his body, of some form of abuse, but the way he walked and smelled, he was completely uninjured. How can you be kidnapped and not get a bruise at all? Clearly, he also wasn’t just on vacation with his family, or they would have already started a search party for the kid. So, what other option was there than that some form of magic was involved.

Maybe he had gotten into contact with a magician or a magical artifact that sent him here by pure coincidence. Maybe, he had indeed been captured and taken away by a kidnapper who was a wizard and healed all his injuries as well as made him forget… or… well? Was he too old for a sudden burst of accidental magic? Sirius was certain, the boy had never heard of the magical world, but Sirius also didn’t know how they did it in Japan. Maybe there was a small community of wizards who practiced their magic differently? Or maybe Kakashi was a muggleborn wizard who had fallen through the cracks and nobody ever told him, what he was? A spontaneous apparition as a form of accidental magic was not uncommon, although jumping all the way from Japan to England seemed a little much. Still, Sirius assumed, at least it was possible. It even seemed the most likely possibility so far. It wasn’t unheard of, that a wizard child only had their first bouts of accidental magic in their preteens just before going to Hogwarts. There were also cases, where subtle forms of magic went completely under the radar. Sometimes things vanishing could easily be confused with things just getting lost in a chaotic child’s bedroom. Was it possible, that nobody had ever known or told the boy about his magical talent? He didn’t know much about Japan’s magical society, but he guessed it could be possible.

Certainly, assuming that a bout of accidental magic had brought a kid who didn’t know they were a wizard to a different continent was unlikely but… it seemed at least more likely than a child falling asleep at home, then being somehow kidnapped, dragged off to England dumped in some forest and then left there within a short span of time, never waking up in between nor knowing what had happened.

“What is the last thing you remember?” Sirius asked still skeptical.

Kakashi looked up into the darkening sky. “I see—” He cut himself off. “I have bad memory. Headache and— room was spinning and… that’s all.”

Spinning… It had to have been an apparition. “When it happened,” Sirius continued to make sure, “do you remember what you were thinking? Were you afraid? Did you want to get away from there?”

Kakashi leveled a glare at him as if Sirius hadn’t listened to him earlier. “I had bad memory.”

Sirius nodded. If something triggered a traumatic memory, he likely felt fear, he must have wished himself away… That could cause a spontaneous apparition, Sirius knew. He remembered a few of them himself, from when he was a child. At eight, when his mother had been angry and yelling at him, when she’d raise her hand… sometimes he’d just apparate then. It wasn’t in his control, and he never got very far. Most of the time, he just landed in their garden, but one time he landed in Victoria Park and two muggles saw him. It caused a minor incident. He remembered that when it happened his mother had been both furious and somewhat proud. There was a believe going around in magical families that the younger a child was, the more often it accidentally used magic and the more impressive the individual bouts of magic were, the more powerful the wizard would get. So, her son teleporting himself to Victoria Park was something Walburga Black had been quite proud of, even if she’d been angry that he’d escaped her anger like that.

Still in thought, Sirius followed after Kakashi back to their camp. He was distracted when Kakashi started collecting dry leaves and brushwood for a fire. Sirius had seen him light a fire several times now, but to this day, he hadn’t figured out how Kakashi did it. There was no match, nothing to cause a spark nor even an ordinary muggle lighter in Kakashi’s hand. So far as a dog he hadn’t paid much attention to it – mostly because Kakashi often got the fire going before Sirius even settled down for the night or woke up in the morning. Now, he watched more closely.

Having already come to the conclusion, that Kakashi might be or at least connected to a foreign culture of magicians, Sirius watched for any detail that might give away a charm or hex Kakashi was using. Anything that could give away that he was using magic.

Kakashi lowered his hands to push the brushwood together, then he hesitated, and looked up at Sirius. With measured movements his hand dug into the small pouch he was wearing at the belt. To Sirius’ surprise Kakashi pulled out a small knife and a stone.

A quick movement, the metallic clank of metal on stone and a flurry of orange sparks lit up the dry leaves. The leaf immediately caught fire, the flames quickly spreading to the brushwood. It was done in a second as if it was the easiest thing in the world. And before Sirius had even caught up to the fact, that this was different, Kakashi was already putting slightly thicker branches of wood over the fire. But it was different.

“You normally do that differently,” Sirius noted. He was certain, Kakashi hadn’t used this rock-knife method before.

“What you mean?” Kakashi asked blinking up at him in innocent confusion.

“The fire. You didn’t use the knife and rock yesterday.”

But already, as he said that, Sirius knew he wouldn’t get an explanation. Kakashi simply smiled at him, as if he didn’t know what Sirius was talking about. What was with this boy and his many secrets?

“Where did you learn that?” Sirius asked instead of fishing for more information regarding Kakashi’s other secret fire-making-methods. “And who taught you to catch fish like that?”

Kakashi took a moment to answer in which he started preparing all three trouts with some herbs he distractedly pulled from the bushes around them. Sirius who hadn’t cooked nor even entered a kitchen in over a decade didn’t know what he was doing.

“Tradition,” Kakashi answered with a single word.

Sirius gaped at him. “You just do it like that where you come from?” Surely that couldn’t be. It seemed more like a very special talent. Sirius couldn’t imagine that there would be a culture out there were catching fish barehanded was just considered normal. But he realized he wouldn’t get a better answer out of the boy. “What is that?” he nodded at the herbs.

Kakashi gave him two small twigs of the fresh green herbs he had plugged. Sirius them up to his nose. In his human form he had to try hard to recognize the scents at all. Even still he couldn’t be sure, but he tried to remember whatever knowledge had remained from his UTZ-level herbology and potions classes. “This is rosemary,” he told Kakashi giving one of the twigs back. With the other he wasn’t quite as sure. “And thyme, I think. How do you call it?”

“Rosemary and Thyme,” Kakashi repeated. Then he gave a shrug. “Don’t know them home.”

“You don’t have them at home? How do you know to cook with them?” And if Sirius knew anything about cooking, at least both herbs were edible, but how would Kakashi know.

He watched the boy silently mouth the words, then he gave a shrug and shook his head.

“You’re experimenting,” Sirius guessed. “Just trying things out and looking what works.”

“I… I _am_ experimenting.”

Sirius noted a special emphasis on the ‘am’. These small words he already knew, Kakashi often forgot. He was learning quickly.

“Do you like cooking?” But he didn’t get a definite answer. “The fish is called trout. Do you have trout in Japan?”

“Masu,” the boy said with a nod. Curiously, Sirius watched how the boy hung the fish head up on a branch using a thin wire he produced from his pouch. He used a thin needle – also from his pouch – to thread the wire through the trouts jaws. Only when he precariously balanced the fish a bit over the fire, not directly into the flames, did Sirius realize that he wanted to smoke the fish.

“Masu? Is that what you call trout?”

Kakashi nodded.

After that they continued their conversation about benign topics so Kakashi could practice his language a bit better. Sirius corrected him every now and then, but a lot of time he just let Kakashi’s mistakes pass. Soon their dinner started smelling really good. It was the first time Kakashi went through that much effort cooking. While he had prepared food for himself and Sirius before, he had fed bland cooked fish and meat and random vegetables to the dog, and not bothered to cook anything more elaborate for just himself. It seemed now, with another person eating with him, he went through extra afford. Sirius felt comfortably warm in his chest. The fact that this boy didn’t just feed him… but even cook for him!

And it really smelled good. Sirius was admittedly not a judge for gourmet food anymore. His pallet was used to the blandest food imaginable. Everything that tasted of something at all was heavenly to him. But this… it really smelled great and he was sure that wasn’t just from his pallet not being used to good foods anymore.

“It smells good,” Sirius said his mouth already watering.

Kakashi looked up at him, gave him a short smile and then took the trout from the fire. With the tips of his fingers and quick movements, he freed the fish from the wire. It was hot and steaming and he never touched it longer than necessary.

They had no plates and Kakashi could only offer one of his knifes – apparently he had multiple of those to help Sirius eat. They ate off two relatively big stones they had found and Sirius looked at Kakashi to copy the way he deboned and skinned his trout. It was a bit of a mess, but it was the best fish Sirius had ever eaten.

Sirius felt oddly humbled thinking it was the first meal he had eaten in years that was actually prepared for him with care – prepared for a human, not a dog or the monster they saw him at in Azkaban. He didn’t know who prepared the food in Azkaban – probably some houseelf – but whoever it was clearly did not consider the prisoner’s human.

He ate slowly, savoring the taste and chewing on every bit of rosemary trying to get the most intense taste out of it. Silently he choked several sobs when his feelings overwhelmed him. The mere idea of good food… It had him close to tears. But he didn’t want to fall apart in front of Kakashi. The boy had enough on his plate – being stranded in a foreign country – without having his hands full with a wailing convict on the run…

Which brought him back to his initial thought. Sirius solemnly stared down at the second trout Kakashi had offered him. (He couldn’t eat it. His human stomach was much less agreeable than Padfoot’s had been.) Kakashi shouldn’t be here.

He shouldn’t follow Sirius around through this foreign country trying to get revenge for something that didn’t concern him. He shouldn’t have to feed and nurse Sirius back to health. He shouldn’t be dragged into this whole business and Sirius shouldn’t use him the way he did. He was awfully and uncomfortably aware of the fact that he was leeching off this boy. As nice as the thought was, as much as he relished in the idea that he didn’t have to go this path alone… He had to. He knew it. Kakashi’s path shouldn’t lead him to Hogwarts to help kill a man he didn’t even know, it should lead back to his home, to his parents, his friends who were surely waiting for him. But that didn’t seem to be of any concern to Kakashi.

He looked up at Kakashi contemplating. Surprised he realized, that Kakashi had already eaten his trout – which by itself wasn’t that surprising – but even more so: Sirius hadn’t seen him eat. While all the days before, Kakashi had comfortably settled down, pulled down his mask and eaten slowly, savoring every bite, now – despite this being the first time he went to the effort of actually preparing something nice and seasoned – he must have gulped the whole fish down in a matter of seconds without Sirius even noticing.

“You already ate?” Sirius asked surprised.

What caused this change? Sirius’ grey eyes rested on the dark cloth mask over Kakashi’s face. He didn’t know why the boy was wearing it, but he had thought it might just be an odd fashion-statement. Or maybe to hide the scar on his cheek. “Why the mask?” he asked.

“Always have it,” Kakashi answered with a shrug.

“You always had it?” it was again such a none-answer… It made Sirius think…

This odd sense of nervousness he had detected earlier, the fact that he didn’t give him any information whatsoever nor answered any of his questions, and now he wasn’t showing his face anymore? Was the sense more than just a fashion-statement and instead a way to hide his face out of anxiety or insecurity? Did that mean, he didn’t trust Sirius anymore?

Of course, …

It all made sense then.

Kakashi had felt safe around the dog, Shaggy, that didn’t apply to the mass-murderer Sirius Black. And why would it. Kakashi might have said that he believed Sirius, but who would? Why would Kakashi believe him over the newspapers? And even if he did, Kakashi was smart and wouldn’t throw all caution into the wind, just because of a hunch that the escaped convict might be telling the truth.

Indeed, Kakashi was so smart, wouldn’t it be the most viable and safe strategy in his mind, to just pretend? Suddenly finding himself in the presence of the convicted murderer of roughly 20 people, including some of his best friends… Kakashi had to be terrified.

The idea that Kakashi might be faking it, horrified Sirius. What was he doing? Kakashi had no reason whatsoever to trust him and the fact that he did it regardless… How had Sirius been so naïve, to believe, Kakashi would trust him, when it was so much more likely that he was simply trying to appease the convicted murderer and survive the week.

That was why he was so nervous.

That was why he didn’t answer any of Sirius’ questions.

And it was also why he didn’t feel confident showing his face anymore.

Did Kakashi fear, exposing information about his home and family would put them in danger? Maybe he was only trying to protect his loved ones. A brave boy.

It was so plain to see and yet Sirius in his hopeful cluelessness had just ignored it. It was the most obvious explanation: The boy was still terrified of him. And why wouldn’t he be?

The realization cut deep into Sirius. This kid, Kakashi, who was kind and caring, who treated him like a human even now… he was putting this boy into a state of deadly terror, surely…

He didn’t know for sure, but it seemed the most likely explanation for the boy’s behavior. And that wouldn’t do. Sirius never wanted to frighten the boy. He didn’t want to be the cause for sleepless nights and fearful thoughts.

Sirius shook himself. Quickly he changed into his dog form for the night. He had come to a decision. If the boy insisted on playing this charade – if he insisted on acting as if running across a foreign country following an escaped convict on his quest for revenge, was his free will and not something he only did out of terror and survival instinct… Sirius would make the choice for him. He would free Kakashi of this horrific situation.

And how could he have been so naïve… now that he thought about it… in hindsight it seemed so obvious. Following an escaped murderer across a foreign country to murder a stranger… which teenager would simply agree to that unless he did it out of self-preservation? Sirius had just been blind to it, self-indulgent, trying to bath in the idea that he wasn’t alone anymore.

But he was… and he should be… this wasn’t a quest for a teenager. This rotten path, that could only lead to damnation or right back to hell – it was one he had to go alone.

_London_ , he thought, curling in on himself in his dog form. Burying his snout into the rosemary bush, the strong fragrance making him almost unaware of anything else.

He would bring Kakashi to London. He would have plenty of time until then, to teach him the English language well enough, that he could get along just fine on his own. In London there would be a muggle auror office or maybe even the Japanese embassy. They could take care of Kakashi there. There was help for Kakashi in London.

They would split paths then. He could continue to Surrey, to see Harry, and then start the arduous journey north to Hogwarts, and by then Kakashi would already be back home with his family, where he belonged.

Sirius slept restless that night, but he didn’t dream. There was the overwhelming scent of rosemary that took any other thought away making him dream of a buffet of smoked trout with rosemary.

When he woke up, still feeling groggy, he thought he heard voices. A foreign language. Kakashi… Was he talking to somebody? But who would he talk to? Maybe he was praying. Praying to be free of the murderer? When the voice quieted only shortly after Sirius woke up, he thought he imagined a different voice, however. One more gruff, and deep.

Sirius jumped up, but the voices were gone, and instead Kakashi came through the trees back to him. He looked just the way he had in the evening, and he was alone. No second person with him.

Had Sirius imagined the second voice?

He sniffed the air testily, but there was no other person. Just him, Kakashi, the last remaining trout that he hadn’t been able to eat the night before, cold ashes and the overwhelming scent of rosemary. Something was different though. Sirius thought he smelled a lingering scent of dog coming from Kakashi that wasn’t Padfoot’s own body odor. But that was impossible. Where would Kakashi have met a dog tonight? Maybe it had brushed him outside Norwich and Sirius simply hadn’t recognized the scent until now.

Something else concerned him far more. It was too early. Still dark and long before morning… Kakashi hadn’t slept or slept bad, just as Sirius had feared. The boy looked dead tired. He’d never seen him like that, with bags under his eyes and shuffling steps on wobbly legs. Sirius’ company clearly wasn’t good for him.

This was enough. It had already gone too far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want them to actually bond now! Kakashi feeding Sirius real food is just the most precious thing for me. I remembered the filler scene when Kakashi was trying out recipe's and Rin and Obito ate with him, and then thought... a personal cook for Sirius! 
> 
> Also Sirius angsting over the morality of his actions. Kakashi might have offered his help and not actually be afraid of Sirius, but to Sirius the idea that somebody might actually feel safe with him and trust him/believe him is so foreign that he draws up the most horrible pictures in his mind. This is just a fourteen-year-old muggle kid and Sirius is a convicted mass-murderer, in Sirius own mind, they shouldn't bond like that, instead Kakashi needs to find his family and get back home. So, while Kakashi is now very much hell-bent on trying to help his new companion, Sirius wants to just get him to London, where he can get help and then continue his journey alone. 
> 
> Next chapter I'll get a little more into the technicalities of how Kakashi got to the magical world...or well, first realizing that he's not just in some other country.


	8. VIII

“So, let me try and get this right,” Pakkun’s gruff voice barked out through the woods. Kakashi had walked a bit away from the camp to get some distance between himself and Black. “You’ve stranded here a week ago and you only thought to call me now?”

Kakashi gave his ninken a week smile. He felt surprisingly tired, his eyes drooping a little. When was the last time, a simple summoning had taken so much energy out of him?

“Sorry.” He shook his head trying to shrug off the exhaustion. “When I arrived here, I suffered from Chakra exhaustion and… couldn’t.” The apology was lame, Kakashi knew himself. It was true, that when he had first woken up here, he had felt something akin to chakra exhaustion, but he had quickly recovered from that within a day. After that, truthfully, he didn’t know why he hadn’t called Pakkun.

Just as he didn’t know why it felt okay to journey with a dog through this foreign country. Or even to follow a convicted mass-murderer on his private quest for revenge. Why wasn’t he doing everything he could to go back to Konoha? Sure, he didn’t know how to get back home, but surely traveling at such a leisurely pace walking from village to village wasn’t the most effective way to find home. 

The best way to describe it, the best answer he could give to himself to all these questions was: Because he liked it. Because for the first time in years… for the first since before even his father had died… Kakashi felt at peace. There was something calming and relaxing and quite mundane about traveling through this country.

He might not know this language, or this place or these people, but he felt safe. He didn’t remember the last time he had felt that safe. There was no threat and no war looming in the background. Even more so, he felt like he could do something good: Feed a starving man, help an innocent man, accompany a lonely man… a man as lonely as himself.

What was there left for him in Konoha? A dead team, a dead sensei, a dead father. Blood sticking to his hands and under his nails. A village still in ruins by a most devastating attack. A peace on such shaky foundations that it was only a matter of time until he would find himself on the battlefield again. A child that Kakashi could only ruin. And a job that would demand of him to continue killing even during peace.

He didn’t dare say that out loud. Just a week ago to mutter these words, he would have thought himself mad, stupid or childish. Or a coward. He had never regretted becoming a shinobi, he’d been proud of it. The youngest ever to graduate from the academy. He hadn’t enjoyed being a soldier of war, but he had done it with a sense of responsibility and duty. He’d never allowed himself to doubt the missions he was given or the village that gave them to him. Even killing was something, he’d always done gladly for his country. To protect the village. And even now, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it… He would do it all over again, for the village, for his comrades, for the hokage and the country. To think, that he was here, walking through a foreign country instead of helping his village rebuild, it left him with a sense of guilt. Like he was failing them…

And still… part of it, part of why he had been so proud of what he was doing, why had never questioned it, and why he would do it again, was because Kakashi thought it inevitable. War was inevitable. Peace wasn’t something he’d ever known.

There were only a few short years between the Second Shinobi World War – the one that had turned his father into a legend – and the Third Shinobi World War – the one in which Kakashi had fought himself. Kakashi had been born during the Second War. He only remembered very little of it. He remembered his father’s many missions, and the tense fear on the streets. He remembered the way the citizens had cheered for their heroes: the hokage, the Sannin, his father. His mother had died in that war. Just a year after his birth. He didn’t remember that. Not her, nor the way she died, nor the funeral. He remembered his father mourning, even years after, but he didn’t remember her. He couldn’t even picture her in his head. By the time he joined the academy, the last year of the war had started. The history books would speak of that year as the bloodiest year of the war. Kakashi had no illusions. He knew that that was the reason, the village had pushed him through the academy at breakneck speed. He had graduated within the year, but only a month later, the war had ended.

And another three years later, his father would abandon his mission and kickstart the series of events that would lead to the Third Shinobi World War. By the time the fighting started two years later, Kakashi had been ten, a Chunin of the Leaf and he had fought in that war from the first day on. That war was over now. And not a year after the peace treaties were signed, Konoha suffered the most devastating attack yet… a catastrophe of their own making, in a way. The Kyuubi rampaging through his home.

He didn’t know peace. Whenever somebody spoke of it, he had no recollection of what that might mean. When he thought of peace, all he could picture was a short five-year reprieve before the next big war started. A reprieve that only ever lasted so long in the first place, because there were shinobi doing all the dirty work in the shadows.

Now after the third war, he was one of these shinobi in the shadows. And he would do whatever the village would demand, pay whatever sacrifice was necessary, to make this reprieve last for as long as possible.

But it could hardly be called peace. It was too shaky and too fragile for that. Hardly more than a seize fire.

Yet, here… even though Black had spoken of war, it never seemed like that in this country. Here, when he walked through villages and spoke to strangers… these people knew nothing but peace.

Kakashi would scoff at himself, if he ever spoke this out loud, but now that he got a glimpse of what peace was, he realized that he craved this. And maybe, it was selfish of him, that he didn’t want to go back home. Not yet, anyway. He wanted this to last longer.

He couldn’t tell Pakkun, though. Not because Pakkun wouldn’t understand or berate him for it, but rather the opposite: He’d proof him right! Pakkun respected him as his summoner, of course, as the human who had signed a contract with the ninken years ago… But Pakkun also saw him as a child, a pup who shouldn’t have to do what Kakashi did. Just like Kakashi never liked it, when Minato doubted him, he liked it even less from his own summons. Telling Pakkun how much he enjoyed this peaceful place… his ninken would take it as a confirmation of all the things he’d worried about before. As a proof, that no matter how much Kakashi had tried to proof him wrong, after all, he was just a child who had no place on the battlefield.

“Chakra exhaustion?” Pakkun repeated, his deep voice rough with an edge of anger. “So, not only did you wait to inform me that you were stranded in a foreign country alone for a week. But you were injured too? You fool!”

“Not injured,” Kakashi corrected, “just…” He was interrupted by a yawn.

“What up, pup?” Pakkun asked abandoning his prior questioning in favor of this new one. “You’re normally not that tired.”

“I know…,” Kakashi furrowed his brows. “This kuchiyose took a lot out of me.”

The small pug’s face scrunched in thought. “That’s not normal.” 

“Mah… I’ll be alright.” But the ninken was right. It wasn’t normal, which made Kakashi worry. Was there something about this country, which made it more difficult for him to use jutsu. Like a barrier technique to stop him from accessing his chakra? He hadn’t expected that. The day before he hadn’t felt any problem using genjutsu and climbing trees hadn’t become more difficult either. Again, he shook the thought off, trying to focus on more important thing. “How long ago was the last time we talked?” he asked just to make sure. The conversation with Black earlier had made him more aware of the possibility that he might have been out for multiple days. So far, he had naturally assumed that some jutsu had teleported him here, but there was a chance, that he might have been unconscious for longer than he thought.

“Is something up with your memory?” Pakkun asked in a tone between worried and rude. At least he didn’t make Kakashi ask again, but instead answered with a sigh. “Just over a week ago, during the Kyuubi attack. In case you forgot.”

He hadn’t forgotten of course. Kakashi scowled. He would never be able to forget that day. “Good,” he said instead of berating the ninken for his tone. “That fits with my own memory. So, I wasn’t unconscious for long.”

“You were unconscious!?” The ninken cried out in frustration. “Pup…” But he stopped when he saw Kakashi’s eye lids droop. “Pup? Kakashi! What’s happening?”

“My chakra is still draining,” Kakashi said, because there was no point denying it. For whatever reason, the summoning didn’t only take a lot out of him, even the drain of keeping Pakkun here seemed extraordinary strong. He wouldn’t be able to hold that up for much longer. It was odd. Normally the summoning was a jutsu he could do even half dead and the drain was something he barely even felt at all. “You need to leave again,” Kakashi declared. “I will…” He had planned to write a massage to the Hokage in which he could explain his predicament, but now he sat down as he started feeling nauseated. He didn’t have time to write anything. “Go to the Hokage, and tell him where I am.”

Pakkun looked around himself through the forest. He scrutinized the closest bush with a thoughtful expression. “And where are you?”

“This country is called Great Britain or England. I don’t know how I…” He paused. With his fingers to his forehead he scrunched his eyes shut as a headache started spreading there. “I’m running out of time.” That much was obvious. “Tell Sandaime-sama that I’ll find a way home.” He had no idea how to do that yet, though. Part of him had hoped that he could simply reverse summon himself to the Kennels. His ninken’s summoning dimension. From there the way home wouldn’t be easy but at least he’d be closer to home than before. Now, he seriously worried that doing that would immediately kill him via chakra exhaustion. What was going on?

Pakkun seemed to come to the same conclusion. “But you have no idea, how to do it yet.” He shook his head clearly worried. “Listen, pup. I don’t recognize any of the smells, but even more than that… It feels different.”

Kakashi opened his eyes, looking at him questioning. “Different, how?”

“The chakra…” Pakkun shook his head. There was an expression of disgust on his face. “Listen: it’s wrong. You can’t feel it because you don’t know natural energy.” Kakashi nodded to the ninken’s words. As any animal summoning, Pakkun had a certain understanding of nature chakra. Unlike Minato’s and Jiraiya’s toads, Kakashi’s ninkens couldn’t use or even accurately sense it, but they still had a certain connection to it. “But there’s something different here.”

Different? Different how? Kakashi remembered the odd haze of energy he’d seen when Black used his dog transformation. “Magic?” he whispered to himself.

“What’s magic?” the pug asked confused. Then he quickly shook his head having no time for these questions. “I don’t know what it is. It’s life energy… a sort of… but it’s different. Not completely but…” Pakkun obviously lacked the words to describe it.

Kakashi didn’t know what to make of the ninken’s words. In fact, the more Pakkun spoke, the less sense he seemed to make.

“Argh… I feel it… The jutsu is about to run out, but Kakashi. I don’t think, you’re just in a different country.” And with that, Pakkun left. He vanished in a small cloud and an almost inaudible plop.

Kakashi stared at the space where he had been.

Not just a different country… Not just a different continent? Was that what Pakkun had wanted to say. If life energy here felt different, that meant… In his world, he knew, that all chakra came from nature. Legend had it, that Kaguya ate the Cakra Fruit from the God Tree and thus was the first human to ever use chakra. Maybe, he had assumed, in this country something else had happened to give people the ability to use chakra. Something so different, that his chakra and theirs was not compatible, that he couldn’t make sense of their techniques. But, in that case, the natural energy upon which all this was based, should still be the same. But if it wasn’t…

Was nature itself different here? Did that mean, he wasn’t just in a different country, or on a different continent, but in a different world all together. But…

No, that couldn’t be right. They knew his language. What were the odds, that on a different planet, they would still develop the same language?

He had accepted that somehow, he had travelled through space, as he was clearly somewhere else. It was very likely – he remembered the antique’s vendor telling him about the kunai being a relic from a distant past – that he had travelled through time as well… But that wouldn’t be enough. Maybe… most importantly, he had travelled through dimensions.

The thought was both frightening but also not that surprising. Travelling through dimensions wasn’t unheard of where he came from… In his world. It was common knowledge, that summoning techniques used small dimensions to travel, as had Minato-sensei’s teleportation. There were jutsu he knew about – though he never learned them himself – that could access the realm of the dead. When he stored his tools in scrolls, he also worked with miniature pocket dimensions… 

Dimensional travel wasn’t unheard of, but a dimension as complex as this…? A whole different world, with a different form of natural energy and a different way to access that? With different people in different countries speaking different languages…

And there still was the original question, one that got all the more important and baffling now: How did he get here?

It was something he’d have to think about another day, he decided. He was too tired now. As he walked back to their camp, he noticed that Black was awake, but he didn’t even have the energy to muster a ‘good morning’. Nor did he think about climbing a tree. He felt safe here, in this country… this world. So, he simply laid down next to the cold fireplace and fell asleep instantly.

******* 

In the morning it had started to rain. Kakashi woke up with wet clothes, feeling uncomfortable. It was still warm enough, that he didn’t mind it that much. Black on the other hand, seemed to mind it quite a bit. He was grumpy that morning, moved with loud moans and stiff joints reminding Kakashi of a sick elderly man.

Well… Black was sick, wasn’t he? Starved, and who knew how the prison treatment had affected his body and health. As for the ‘elderly’ part? How old was he, anyway?

Kakashi vaguely remembered that in the first article he had read about him, they had written his age. Kakashi hadn’t bothered reading that, though. He had just skipped the short information in brackets, because the digits didn’t give him any information on how to pronounce the number – although he understood the meaning. If he remembered correctly, they had said he was 30-something… But that couldn’t be right. He looked like well over 50. Kakashi knew, that prolonged imprisonment could make people age faster. But to this extreme seemed more in line with torture rather than imprisonment. Black hadn’t said much about his time in the wizarding prison, Azkaban, but if he indeed was in his thirties… Kakashi felt angry at the mere thought of it.

Not only because Black had been innocent, but more so, because he considered him a friend. To a degree, Kakashi could understand torture for the sake of getting information. But Black had said, they hadn’t even given him a trial nor cared to find out the truth. It didn’t sound like they had tried to tickle some viable knowledge out of him. He was not so naïve as to think that there were no sadists who just tortured for fun, but Kakashi had no taste for that.

“How old?” Kakashi asked still in thought. He was surprised at his own bluntness, but he had gotten used to Black’s willingness to share information.

“Huh?” Black asked looking up at him. There was something dark and worried in his look. Something like hatred, though it didn’t feel directed at Kakashi. Still Kakashi was taken aback. Had something changed between last night and now?

“You. How old?”

“You say: How old are you?” Sirius corrected him. “I’m Thirty-three years old.” His brows furrowed a little, then he poked a finger into muddy earth and spelled out a ‘33’. “Thirty…three.” 

Kakashi nodded his thanks, grateful for the considerate gesture. He still had trouble with numbers above twenty. He could read the digits just fine – it was a simple decimal system with just ten digits after all, including a zero which was either nothing or a times-ten factor – but he didn’t know all the words yet. 

33 years… Kakashi scowled. It was hard to see a 33-year-old in this face of sickly white skin, with deep lines dug by sorrow and suffering. The only feature that seemed to fit the age was the thick long hair which was still mostly black, not grey.

“How about you?” Black asked back. He spoke slow. “How old are you?”

Kakashi scoffed a little, realizing that Black had turned his question into a language lesson. “I’m four-ten,” he played along, because though it wasn’t what he had wanted, he still needed practice. “…years old…” he added a bit sheepishly when Black was obviously waiting for that part.

Black gave him a tired smile. “Fourteen.” He drew a 14 into the mud. “We should go. It’s still far to London.”

Kakashi had nothing to say against that. Still fascinated he watched the wizard turn into his dog form. The fur was wet and as they started their march, the dog’s scraggly wet mane made him look even more sickly than he was. He looked wild and untamed and starving. Kakashi watched him trudge on, until he turned his head to look back at him and wait for Kakashi to catch up. His eyes were of the same steel grey as Black’s human eyes, Kakashi noted.

The dog continued to lead the way. Southwest, they went. When yesterday and the days before Black had let him through quiet paths, now they soon reached a wide road with several lanes, and big green street signs. The metallic transportation machines, Kakashi had already noted before – cars - zipped past at a speed far superior to the pulled carts Kakashi was used to from civilians in the Land of Fire. He had seen them drive before, making their ways through the towns and country roads he’d walked through on his journey. Kakashi had already noted, that they were faster than carts, but here on this road, they were even faster. Tired as he still felt from summoning Pakkun earlier, he might even have some trouble keeping up. On the downside, he had already noted how these cars stank. They left behind the distinct stench of burned fuels the way he was only used to from factories. 

They walked all day, Black setting a for Kakashi leisurely but – as he now felt safe to assume – for the people of this world quite brisk pace. He didn’t stop ones, although halfway through the day the dog started breathing heavier. That was when Kakashi himself slowed down a little. For whatever reason, it seemed Black was determined to get a big junk of their journey behind them on that day. That was also the reason, Kakashi assumed, why they were walking next to this wide road even though it stank abysmally, and the noise gave Kakashi a headache. It was likely the most direct road to their goal.

That however, left the question of why? Was there something wrong with this area? Was it not safe for them to spend a lot of time here? But that didn’t feel right. In fact, whenever they got closer to a settlement, the villages looked the same as the ones before and the people acted the same as well. At some point they passed a place called Attleborough and an elderly woman with her own dog came up to him, walking a little with Kakashi and prattling on and on about how happy she was that the weather had finally turned for the better. She was nice enough and Kakashi didn’t get the impression that she felt unsafe here at all, nor did she seem to be in a hurry.

So, this was all just Black. Something made Black push himself and push himself hard. Kakashi was at a loss. He couldn’t remember anything that could have caused this, nor had Black mentioned anything morning that would indicate that he was in more of a hurry now compared to yesterday.

It also wasn’t good for him, Kakashi feared. Starved as he was, he shouldn’t have the energy for these long marches. Sooner or later he would collapse, Kakashi feared.

It was already well into the evening, and they had left Attleborough long past them, were closing in on another town called Thetford. Having nothing else to do, Kakashi kept reading the street signs. He whispered the names of the different villages and towns to himself. “Thetford…” His lip tried the odd th-sound the people here used so often. “Thetford…” His breath whistled between teeth and tongue. “We should make a break,” he said before they reached the town. “It’s getting late.” Despite his lingering exhaustion from summoning Pakkun, he wouldn’t mind walking through the night, but Black’s steps had become uncertain. He was dragging his paws, his tail and head were hanging low, he was heckling with difficulty and several times he had almost tripped. He didn’t stop though, and Kakashi worried, Black might be determined to walk right into an early grave unless Kakashi asked for a stop.

He looked around himself for a good place to make camp. However, there was just the road and a green plain all around them. There weren’t even any significant hills for them to hide. A mile further south, however, he could see the dark shadows of a forest barely visible against the darkening sky.

He was about to suggest going there when he realized Black hadn’t stopped. “Shaggy!” He called out to the dog who had already went ahead several slow steps. “Shaggy, wait!” The dog’s ears perked up a little. He looked back to Kakashi eyes tired but questioning.

“We should make a break,” Kakashi suggested again, pointing in the direction of the forest. “Over there.” Although he kept his tone pleasant, he didn’t give Black any chance to decline. Instead he turned on his heels walking back a few hundred steps to where he remembered an underpass leading below the road to the other side. Black, Kakashi realized, needed a worryingly long time to catch up to him again.

****** 

Kakashi woke up by sheer instinct. People, he knew.

He had slept well on the mossy – though wet – ground. He still felt the lingering chakra exhaustion, but physically he felt quite well rested.

His first glance went to Black who laid tightly curled into himself sheltered between bushes and undergrowth. Although he had fallen asleep in dog form the second Kakashi had declared, that they should use this place to make camp, now he was back in human form. He was also shivering violently and moaning quietly in his sleep.

Certain that Black was fast asleep, Kakashi leaped into the trees with a single powerful jump. He sniffed the air, looked around, listened. It was still early in the morning, but it wouldn’t be long until sunrise. He was certain he heard human voices, though they were still far away.

Kakashi didn’t trust these trees to silently hold his weight jumping from one tree to the other, so he slid back to the ground. After another look at Black, making sure he hadn’t woken up, Kakashi started making his way towards the voices. He moved fast- Light steps completely silent against the ground. He slipped through the forest, hiding behind trees and bushes, and he found the humans within a matter of seconds.

It was a group of nine. Four adults, five children. Two families, he gathered. Or maybe one big family with aunt and uncle. The youngest child, a boy of maybe two, was carried in a baby carrier on a young man’s back. Four other kids, three girls and one boy – all barely reaching to Kakashi’s hips were running wildly besides the adult. Two of them were loud balls of energy, yelling at each other, poking with sticks against the ground and into bushes. The other two were equally loudly complaining about why they had to wake up so early and that they hated ‘hiking’.

Kakashi was transfixed by the sight for a few minutes. It was such an unassuming little scene and yet… It was one thing feeling safe within the confines of a city – with or without defensive city walls – but to just leave that safety for a morning family trip? Where Kakashi came from, civilians required shinobi protection just to travel from one village to the next or they risked being robbed, murdered or kidnapped by bands of vagrants and thieves, or rogue or enemy shinobi.

He followed them for a while. When one of the girls didn’t stop complaining, her mother lifted her up and carried her on her hip for a few meters until she demanded to be let down again as one of the other children found something of interest below a root. It turned out to be a for Kakashi rather unassuming bug, but the kids found this so fascinating that they showed their parents and then one of the girls hunted another with the big bug in her hand threatening to put it into her sister’s hair.

It was only when they turned on the narrow trail, that Kakashi became aware that they were now walking towards were Black still slept. If he knew anything, then that Black couldn’t be seen, or they had the police – or the ‘aurors’ as he called them – on their trail in an instant. These two families at their pace wouldn’t reach their camp within the hour, but Kakashi and Black had to hide all the traces of ever being here, before the families reached them.

When he arrived back at their camp Black was still asleep. “Wake up!” Kakashi called over to him, already throwing away the charred wood from the small fire he had made in the evening. Kakashi didn’t think the family would be looking for their traces and even if, he didn’t think any of them were trained trackers, but he didn’t want to risk anything, so he put quite a bit of care into hiding their footprints, as well as anything that looked like it might have been moved by human hand recently. “Black!” Black hadn’t moved.

Finally, when he was done cleaning up the camp side only a few minutes later, while Black still hadn’t woken up, he walked up to the man, shaking his shoulder. Black surged up in sudden fright. It was only thanks to Kakashi’s reflexes, that they didn’t bump heads. Wide, haunted eyes stared at Kakashi.

“Turn to dog,” Kakashi said. “People.”

Black blinked at him confused, then he looked around as if he didn’t know where he was. His movements as he rolled out of his shelter between the bushes and then tried to stand up, were slow and lethargic. His limps were trembling. He also ruined Kakashi’s hard work, hiding their traces, as now there was the unmistakable imprint of a human body rolling over flattened undergrowth. Kakashi scowled a little.

“There coming people,” he said again when Black still hadn’t turned. He didn’t even seem fully awake yet. His formerly wide-eyed and confused alertness had shifted into a lethargic droopiness.

He’d overdone it the day before, Kakashi thought. And he hadn’t eaten anything after.

“Okay, stay,” Kakashi ordered.

He didn’t know if Black understood the order or if he was simply too tired to do anything else anyway. At least he kept sitting where he was. Kakashi wasted another two minutes getting rid of the huge imprint Black’s body had left behind. Then he just barely caught Black, before he fell sideways. He was back asleep. With a sigh Kakashi lifted his friend up and threw him over his back. It was awkward as Black was quite a bit taller than him, but he was disturbingly light. 

“Just go back sleep,” Kakashi muttered, when Black’s quiet moaning made him aware of the fact, that the man had woken up again. “Don’t worry.” Back didn’t need to be asked twice. And then Kakashi was off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it'S in order to finally explain some things about how Kakashi got there and how Magic and chakra interact.  
> I thought to explain it here, because Kakashi will need a while to figure it out - if he ever fully does.  
> Kakashi was teleported here by his own Kamui interacting with Sirius own magic. Basically, Kakashi unlocked the Mangekyou Sharingan (and with that kamui) with Rin's death. He's not able to control it yet, but he can technically use it. After Rin's death and again with Minato's and Kushina's death, I decided that similar to Obito, Kakashi had a feeling of 'i am in hell'. Not as much as Obito himself, but there was a certain sense of loss of purpose, adriftness. Part of him wished himself away, and after Minato's death, the Sharingan basically granted him that wish. Kakashi suffered from Chakra exhaustion, because he used his Kamui and doesn't have enough chakra to control it yet.  
> Meanwhile Sirius was close to death and wished that somebody would help him, and the way magic works... his magic just made it happen and found him somebody who could help.  
> So basically, Kakashi unknowingly 'fled' into a dimension where he would be safe - maybe take it as the 'ghost of Obito'S eyes' trying to protect him, if you want to be poetic about it. And Sirius magic then pulled him from that dimension to England... it's a bit odd, but hey... this doesn'T really have to make sense as long as I fnd a way to bring these two together, right?
> 
> Also Kakashi's summoning uses up a lot more energy, because Pakkun is not supposed to exist in this dimension, and the summoning jutsu is made to connect the summoning dimension (which I have no called 'the kennels' just for simplcity sake - so if you read something about kennels, I'm talking about the dimension Pakkun and the other dogs live in) with the shinobi world. The magical world in comparison is much further away from the kennels, so getting Pakkun there takes a lot of energy, keeping him there even more so. Naruto is somewhat unclear about the technicalities of summonings. Like it seems that how long a summoning can stay depends on the amount of chakra pushed into the jutsu in the first place, then again, sometimes it feels like the jutsu deactivates as soon as a user runs out of chakra or falls unconscious, so I decided that it'S a bit of both. So most of in addition to the jutsu itself, just keeping the summoning there for a while, will also have a miniscule drain on the chakra. Normally Kakashi wouldn'T even feel that, now it's a lot stronger, because Pakkun shouldn't be in this world, and shouldn'T have been summoned into this world with the summoning, so there's a much stronger pull for him to 'go home' than there would normally be.  
> (I did this mostly so I can'T use him or the hounds too much, so I can better focus on the story, but also so Kakashi can't simply reverse summon himself, at least not without doing some research before.)
> 
> I also decided, that ALL animal summons have a bit of a conenction to nature energy. With snake, frog and even Wood sage mode, there are so many different forms of using natue chakra, that I decided, that all summons have probably a connection to it, although not all can use it. So Pakkun would realize the difference in the very nature of the world around him.
> 
> Lastly, I decided that Magic and Chakra don't mix. Making them both based on different forms of natural energy whatsoever, is probably the easiest way to make sure of that. So Kakashi won't learn how to apparate, and Sirius won't learn the shadow clone jutsu. But I think especially for Kakashi, once he learns more about magic, there might be interesting ways to interact with it. And in some cases (for example when will power is concerned rather than just magic - like occlumency or resisting an imperio) his training will also pay off.


	9. IX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Mention of Suicide!

Sirius’ body was aching all over. He hadn’t ached that bad since he had escaped Azkaban still bruised from when the sea had thrown him around, crashed his body against rocks, before it had washed him ashore. This ache, however, felt better. It was the screaming muscles of hard work not the agonizing bruises of abuse. Still, it was a clear sign that he had overdone it the day before.

He woke up, feeling groggy and a little lost. Like there was something he should remember but had forgotten. His chin rested against a hard surface while his arms and legs hung free, held up by somebody carrying him with strong arms around his thighs, his weight slumped over straight shoulders… Shoulders? His chin was resting against the crook of a neck, somebody else’s hair scratching and tickling against his skin.

The soft up and down of powerful steps was almost imperceptible. It reminded him of Hogwarts. Of the morning after a full moon night in sixth grade, when he had overdone it and fallen asleep, so Prongs carried him back to the dormitory before the teachers who would come to collect Moony in the morning, could find him too and see that he had snuck out of the Gryffindor dorms again.

“I’ve missed you, Prongs,” he muttered before he could even think about his words.

That wasn’t right… 

Confused he raised his head blinking against the sun. James was dead. Dead and buried over a decade ago. Remus had abandoned him, and Peter was a traitor. He was a convict on the run, he reminded himself, although now, that he slowly caught up to his situation he didn’t really need that reminder. He was painfully aware of it.

Who would carry him, then? 

He saw the back of a head, grey hair and the dark cloth of the mask stretching over a thin neck. The boy… Kakashi. Automatically Sirius pushed away from him.

“Kakashi!” he exclaimed surprised. How could Kakashi carry him? Why would he? He suddenly felt awkward, realizing how much shorter the kid was than him. A fourteen-year-old teenager carrying a full-grown adult. Sure, he was starved half to death, but that wasn’t really an excuse why he should let himself be carried around by a kid. And where was Kakashi even taking him? Never mind, he only actively realized now, he was in human form… if they were seen. Or was that what Kakashi had planned? Carrying him to the police, helpless in his sleep?

“Good morning, Mr. Black,” Kakashi said with a silent chuckle in his voice. He let Sirius down. “We had to leave camp. People.”

There were people? Sirius looked Kakashi up and down, looked for any signs that the boy was sweating or that his back was aching from carrying Sirius around.

“Call me Sirius,” Sirius said automatically, before biting his tongue. The child was terrified of him, he reminded himself, remembering how tired Kakashi had been from lack of sleep. Acting as if they were close by getting on a first name basis… that wouldn’t help, Sirius feared.

But Kakashi only smiled at him. “Good morning, Sirius,” he repeated. “I tried you awake, but you were tired.”

“You tried waking me up, but I was tired?” Sirius said without thinking. “Why?” he quickly added because that was more important now than the English lesson. “Why didn’t you just leave me there.”

Kakashi stared at him with a single wide eye, then he looked down at the street as if he was taken aback by the question. He didn’t answer. Sirius followed his eyes.

“Where are we?” He didn’t recognize this place, which didn’t mean much. There were a lot of parts of England that he wouldn’t recognize immediately, even before his imprisonment. And that was ten years ago. There were plain green meadows around them. Not a hill in sight. He had no idea where he was.

Kakashi took a few steps back, then he pointed with his left arm. Sirius followed him, then looked where Kakashi was pointing. A bit further away down a narrow path, there was a small sign. A white arrow with a text on it, that he couldn’t read from where they stood. Sirius jogged up to the sign, with Kakashi following him close behind.

“Braintree,” he read. He shook his head. He didn’t know a Braintree in Norfolk. The last he remembered they had been close to Thetford. He looked around. He didn’t see the town close by, nor did he see any signs pointing towards it. “Have we already passed Thetford?”

Kakashi nodded.

“How long ago?” If he could calculate the time and… How fast would Kakashi be, carrying him around? He had already noted that the boy had good stamina, he hadn’t once gotten tired on their journey. So, he wasn’t too surprised that Kakashi was not just able to carry him, but even drag him all the way past Thetford. Only how much further?

If they had passed Thetford, were they already in Suffolk? But he didn’t know a Braintree in Suffolk either. Maybe, it was some tiny place he had never heard of. The closest Braintree, Sirius could think of was in…. Essex… but that couldn’t be right. That would mean, Kakashi had carried him all the way through Suffolk and they were already 40 miles before London. Sirius shook his head. That was simply impossible.

But then he read the sign again. “Braintree…” He glanced at Kakashi. “How long was I asleep? How long did you carry me?” Braintree, if this was indeed Braintree, Essex was halfway between Thetford and central London. How?!

Kakashi shrugged again. “Hour before sun went up?”

“We left camp an hour before sunrise?” Sirius shook his head disbelieving. “Today?” It wasn’t even noon yet. Had Kakashi run a marathon with him on his back? He shook his head, deciding it would be a waste of energy to make sense of that. Maybe it was another instance of Kakashi’s maybe magical abilities. Somehow teleporting him from Thetford, Norfolk to Braintree, Essex. “Did anybody see us?” That was a much bigger worry, he decided.

It was difficult to read his expression behind the mask, but Sirius thought Kakashi scoffed. “No.” He said in a tone as if he felt insulted that Sirius had even considered that.

Although Sirius was doubtful, he didn’t question it. “Okay,” he said. He didn’t really believe it though. Somehow carrying Sirius for 40 miles was one thing. Doing it without being seen by anybody?

“I’m sorry about that.” Sirius looked at the boy. He still couldn’t detect any slumped shoulders or sweat. “Forcing you into that position.” Even if the boy were here of his own free will… it was one thing to ask him to follow Sirius around, another thing entirely to need to be carried.

“No worries,” Kakashi smiled.

“How did you know the way?”

“You said London. I read signs. London everywhere.”

“Every sign says what direction London is?” Sirius asked to make sure.

Kakashi nodded.

“Good.” Not just that they had gone into the right direction. Even more so, it was reassuring that Kakashi could find his way. If he continued like that, he’d soon be better at finding his way than Sirius himself. 

****** 

They carried on their journey. Kakashi had been a little put off, by how surprised Sirius had been, that Kakashi had taken care of him as he was asleep. Had he thought, Kakashi would just leave him to be found? Did Sirius think that low of him?

Then, however, he had quickly brushed these doubts off. Evidently, Sirius had only been surprised, that Kakashi was able to carry him – never mind carry him that far. Still, Sirius doubts in his skills was almost more insulting than doubting his integrity would have been. Kakashi knew he was the scum of the earth. So, having people expect the worst from him, might hurt, but it wasn’t very surprising. Having them doubt his abilities… that was a new one. It wasn’t Sirius’ fault of course. Kakashi had kept his skills hidden, after all.

Because Sirius hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday morning, he quickly ate the rests of the smoked trout.

“You’re not hungry?” Sirius asked with the trout half eaten. Kakashi only shook his head. He wasn’t and if he were, he still had enough soldier pills to last for a few days.

“If we’re already at Braintree…” Sirius started, but then shook his head eating the rest. “We’re getting close to London now. Soon as we’re in the metropolitan region, I don’t feel comfortable transforming anymore.”

Kakashi had no idea what ‘metropolitan region’ meant. “Close to London?” he asked.

“Yes.” Sirius looked at him then sighed. “The city itself and the region around it. Too many people. I’ll be seen.”

Five million people, Kakashi remembered. The very idea of so many people in one single city made his ears ring. Hiding from so many sounded like a challenge even for him. It would be safer for Sirius to just stay hidden as a giant black dog.

“What is plan in London?” Kakashi asked curiously. If he had understood it correctly, it wasn’t where Sirius’ godson lived, so what where they going to do there? So far, Kakashi had the impression, Sirius was avoiding the cities, so why would he want to walk right into the biggest of them all.

“What’s the plan when we arrive in London? Or… What are you planning to do in London?” Sirius shook his head. It wasn’t the first time that he offered multiple solutions how to say something without really explaining the difference to Kakashi. Kakashi wouldn’t know it, even if Sirius explained. Learning the language seemed to work intuitively for the most part, but Kakashi never had grammar classes in school. If Sirius started explaining what a subject or verb in a clause was, it would hardly help Kakashi. “It’s on the way to Surrey,” Sirius answered. Then he hesitated for a moment. “And we should get to a police department there.”

“Police?” Kakashi asked curiously. If he had at all understood what ‘police’ meant it was an institution Sirius should rather try to avoid. But Sirius didn’t explain himself.

“Son’s friend lives in Surrey?” Kakashi asked, then he frowned realizing his own mistake. “Your friend’s son.”

“Yes.” Sirius sighed, looking down the road. Kakashi had chosen this empty hiking trail through the countryside. It was lonely, without a soul in sight. Several times that day, Kakashi had to jump off-road to avoid being seen before he had found this path. However, the lack of street signs in the place made it rather difficult for him to navigate through this foreign country. He had set a course roughly southwest having already gathered that London had to be somewhere in that direction from all the street signs he’d seen before – when he’d still used the bigger roads. 

“We should move on. How did you find this trail?” Sirius looked rather impressed at the surprising solitude. Kakashi shrugged. Apparently, Sirius didn’t need an answer to his question because he continued after a moment. “His name is Harry. Harry Potter. He’s my godson.” He had used that word before, Kakashi remembered.

“Godson?” Kakashi asked.

Sirius looked at him, as if he didn’t understand the question. Then he smiled drily. “Oh… Yes, a godson is… The parents choose another adult – a friend or maybe an aunt or uncle– to help raise and guide the child. Lily and James chose me. When they died, I should have become Harry’s guardian. I should be the one taking care of him, but…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but Kakashi was able to fill in the blank. Obviously, being imprisoned would make it difficult to fulfill his guardian role.

Sirius stayed quiet for a while, Kakashi having nothing to add to it himself. Then finally, Sirius spoke up again. “Do you have that in your culture, too? In Japan?”

Kakashi felt uncomfortable then. Sirius had told him so much. He had taught Kakashi everything about their world, helped him learn the language, opened up about his past… He trusted Kakashi with so much, and Kakashi still hadn’t even told him where he came from. 

“I’m not—” Kakashi started, but then he caught himself. It wasn’t safe to share this information he told himself. A shinobi didn’t share their affiliation without good reason… Never mind, even if he wanted to, what was the point? Sirius wouldn’t even know what Kakashi was talking about.

“Yes.” He had no idea about Japan, but in Konoha they had godparents, or something similar. “Something like that.”

“Like that?” Sirius asked curious. He was clearly just trying to keep the conversation going. Was he fishing for information? Or was he trying to bond? “Do you have a good relationship with your godparent.”

Maybe it was just another English lesson, Kakashi thought, as he was trying to string together his response. “I guess.” He shrugged. “He took care of me.”

Sirius brows furrowed. “He took care of you? What about your parents?”

Kakashi answered with a shrug. He saw something dark pass across Sirius’ eyes, then he apparently brushed it aside.

“Does he have a name? That godparent?”

Now, that was the first question that might prompt Kakashi to give something important away. Asking for a name. Warily Kakashi glanced at Sirius, but there was nothing on his face that would give away the man’s intention. Kakashi didn’t think Sirius was actually trying to get details to use against him, and maybe this would be a good opportunity to test something.

“Sarutobi,” Kakashi said. “Hiruzen Sarutobi.”

There was no moment of recognition on Sirius’ face. Nothing in his eyes or the way he acted that would indicate that he knew the name. So, not only did Kakashi not know this country, but the name of the hokage hadn’t reached here either. That, or Sirius was a much better actor than Kakashi gave him credit for.

“He’s the hokage.” 

Still, nothing. Sirius didn’t know what a hokage was. It seemed more and more likely, that Kakashi had really somehow landed in a sort of parallel dimension. One, where Konoha didn’t exist. If that was true, Kakashi could be a bit more open with details of his life… However, he thought, he should stay cautious. Who knew what these people would do, if they found out inter-dimensional travel was a thing… Unless, of course, they already knew about that...? Then, maybe, this magic was his ticket home.

“What’s a hokage?” Sirius asked when Kakashi – deep in thought – didn’t say anything else.

Kakashi pushed his hands in his pockets. “He’s village leader.”

“Village leader? Like a mayor?”

Kakashi already knew that word. “Something like that. Just… more important.”

At that, Sirius chuckled. “So, your parents are some big shots? Important people with connections to local government?”

The question threw Kakashi for a loop before he understood what Sirius meant. The way, he had explained godparents, it seemed to be something very personal. A godparent was a friend of the family, maybe even part of the family. It was similar for civilians in the Land of Fire, Kakashi thought. For most shinobi, however, their parents appointed the hokage guardian in case of their early demise. It was the easiest solution, especially considering that most shinobi would die young and leaving the child under the watchful eye of the hokage – and therefore making them a ward of the entire village – was a much more permanent solution, then to pick a friend of the family who might not survive much longer, anyway. Kakashi knew, that Minato-sensei and Kushina-nee had named Jiraiya-sama Naruto’s godfather, but even then, ultimately, the hokage had assumed custody over the child. Now that he thought about it, that was a little odd…

“Kakashi?” Sirius looked at him, worry etching deep lines into his face. “Is everything okay? Was it too personal?”

“No,” Kakashi answered immediately, appalled at the idea that Sirius might think him weak, for being unable to keep his thoughts straight after his only mildly personal question. “They wasn’t important.” But then he shook his head.

He shouldn’t talk about his father like that. He barely knew anything about his mother, but his father had been an important shinobi. Sure, he was from a minor clan, and therefore had little political influence, and that wasn’t the reason why the hokage had been appointed as Kakashi’s godparent… But still, Sakumo Hatake was not just anybody.

His father was the White Fang. And Kakashi had disrespected his memory for too long already.

“No, I mean… They was…”

“Were,” Sirius interrupted in a low voice when Kakashi paused to look for words.

“They were… I mean… Father was important. But not… because of politics?” At the end of his explanation his voice raised as if he was asking a question instead of explaining. He didn’t know if his attempts were at all understandable. 

“Your father was important, but not politically?” Sirius asked patiently, and when Kakashi nodded, he smiled. There was something sad in the way his lips quirked. It was in his eyes. Something deeply compassionate. “What happened to him?”

Kakashi stared at him. Then he looked away. He wasn’t willing to talk about that yet. Not with Sirius, or anybody. He had never liked talking about what had happened to his father. Even with Obito; when Obito had mentioned the White Fang during their last mission together… He’d been immensely grateful that Obito had never talked about the way he’d died, but only the way he’d lived. And then Obito had gone and died, saving Kakashi and clearly… talking about it brought only bad luck.

Kakashi didn’t want to.

His dad had been the great White Fang. A shinobi of the Leaf, a legendary ninja who had been a genius among his peers. During the Second Shinobi World War, he had forever carved his name into the annals of Konoha’s history… And then he had failed a single mission and paid for it with his honor and good name. And ultimately his life…

What was there to talk about? Kakashi didn’t want to cry about it. He’d already been a chunin then, as such an adult in the eyes of his village. He had picked up the pieces after his father’s suicide, as was expected. He had buried his father and continued his job, as was expected. And when the war broke out – the one many thought his father’s actions had started – he had done his part and fought for his village, as was expected. He had done what he could to rebuild his name and his honor, as was expected.

At least so he had thought. But, of course, he had it all wrong.

His father had been a hero.

And Kakashi was the worst scum.

He knew that now, and if he regretted anything, then that he hadn’t told his father before it was too late: that he hadn’t told the White Fang, that he was a hero; that his son was proud that he had done what he did; that there was no shame in his actions, and that Kakashi was sorry that he hadn’t seen it sooner. He would have told his father that there was nothing dishonorable about saving his comrades, or if – adversely – abandoning them for the mission was the meaning of honor Kakashi didn’t want any of it.

In the eyes of many people, Kakashi knew, that was exactly what honor meant. In their eyes, Sakumo Hatake had lost his honor by abandoning the mission to save his comrades and gained it back by abandoning his son. 

“I see—” Sirius said although Kakashi hadn’t said anything. He clearly wanted to add something, but instead looked down along the narrow trail. A little further ahead there was a straight horizontal cut through the meadows. A bigger road crossing their path. “I’m sorry for intruding…” And with that Sirius transformed back to his dog form. 

Kakashi was thankful that Sirius didn’t pry. Still, he felt guilty for having blocked off Sirius’ attempts at bonding like that. “There’s not much to talk about.” It was a lie, of course. It wasn’t that there was nothing to talk about, there was never anybody to talk to. When his father had killed himself, the village had been happy to pretend nothing had happened. In their eyes, father had betrayed them and then paid for it with his life. The hokage had offered his condolences but other than that, neither Kakashi nor the villagers had been keen to remember the shinobi who had killed himself after being ostracized for his decision to prioritize his comrades over his mission. Minato-sensei had only taken over as Kakashi’s teacher a few years later and by then Kakashi’s heart had already hardened and his memory of his father had been poisoned by grief and anger. Only Obito had helped him out of that hole he had dug for himself, but it was too late by then… Too late to talk about Sakumo Hatake. Kakashi’s own generation didn’t even remember him, Minato’s generation did, but they were too young and had no part in his death, most of those older than Minato didn’t want to be remembered of the past. He’d just be digging up old skeletons.

Of course, there was no response from Sirius, who was already trudging along as a dog.

****** 

The area where Kakashi had first woken up in, was called Norfolk. Norfolk, he had found out, wasn’t so much a country but rather just a part of this nation which was much bigger and – as he was reasonably sure from the way Sirius had talked about it in some of their conversation – apparently on an island.

Norfolk had stretched from the coast in the north and northeast through small hills with meadows, fields and small patches of wood that barely deserved the name ‘forests’, interspersed by many villages – the biggest of which barely reached Konoha in size. At least that’s what Kakashi had thought until he reached the outskirts of Norwich… which had been a city as big as the capital of the Land of Fire as far as Kakashi could say. Although Norfolk was not a country by itself, Norwich still seemed a sort of capital for the area.

After that, Kakashi had within just a day marched through the region called Suffolk to the south. What he’d seen of Suffolk – staying away from busy roads, villages and towns – had been flat green plains. Staying undetected had been hard at times – which was the reason he’d taken half the day to cross this region. This country was cultivated even to the last square meter. Wherever he was, there were the signs of people living there. Even when he avoided the towns and villages itself, roads were made of pavement or well-kept gravel trails, there were gardens and huge farms and he had run past quite a few paddocks for horses. At one time, he’d even turned around to avoid a flock of sheep.

Now apparently – both the street signs and Sirius had told Kakashi so – they were in an area called Essex. Now, the land was just flat. Flat flat flat. No place to hide, no place to walk around unseen. Whatever small hills they found he was half-certain were artificial. He would have liked talking more to Sirius, to improve his English, but after only a short walk they left the small artificial hill that had given them protection and now… It seemed even avoiding the villages, walking across these endless plains of farmland, any person walking across this flat land could be seen sticking out of the landscape from a mile away.

They just passed a city called Chelmsford, when Kakashi decided it was time to rest again or Sirius would once more overexert himself. It wasn’t getting dark yet, but it would soon, and Kakashi worried, that as they came closer to London it would get harder to find a safe spot for a camp. He still couldn’t imagine it… Five Million.

Instead of hiding in a patch of forest or between hills, Kakashi decided to sneak into an empty building of red brick. It was just a one-story-building, and he assumed it was an old factory or maybe a warehouse. In any case, it wasn’t in use and stood empty. There was a small guardhouse towards the main road, with a slim man inside, keeping an eye on the complex. However, he only looked towards the main road and – Kakashi noted – seemed to be far more interested in the crossword in his newspaper than his job. It was easy for Sirius to quickly transform and climb over a wall, onto the premises. Once on the premises, the backdoor wasn’t even locked.

As Sirius seemed nervous but also glad to be inside. The weather promise to take a turn for the worst that night. The convict’s eyes were shifting through the big hall they were in, towards the main door.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Sirius mumbled. “If we get caught… I can turn, but you…”

Kakashi gave a half-hearted shrug. At worst, they’d only find a stray dog here. The more time he spent here the more confident he was, that he could hide from the people in this country. At least from the so-called muggles… He eyed Sirius. He wasn’t sure about the wizards yet.

“You think you’ll get away with it, cause you’re a kid?” Sirius asked. He smirked as he said it, as if he remembered something funny. He didn’t elaborate, though.

“Do you.-.?” Kakashi tried to start a different conversation – one he was curious about for a while now. However, the words failed him.

“Do I… what?” Sirius asked with a frown.

“With magic…” Kakashi frowned still lacking a way to explain it. He tried to gesture with his hands. “Poof,” he opened up one hand, “poof!” He closed the hand and opened the other on the other side of his head.

Sirius looked utterly confused. “If I can… poof with magic?” He snickered a little.

Kakashi glared at him, frustrated with the lack of understanding. “From one place to somewhere else – poof.”

“Ha!” Sirius barked in laughter. Then he snapped his mouth shut, trying to muffle the noise. He threw a wary glance to the front door. “Teleport? You mean if I can teleport?”

Kakashi shrugged, because… How would he know if ‘teleport’ was what he wanted to ask about?

“Disappearing from one place and reappearing somewhere else,” Sirius tried again and this time Kakashi nodded, though he didn’t know the words ‘disappear’ and ‘reappear’, but it sounded like that might be what he had meant. “Yes, I can. I mean, not now without my wand. But if I ever get my wand back…” His voice trailed off then. Kakashi had already realized that losing this wand-thing had been a blow to Sirius that he didn’t like talking about.

“How does it work?”

Sirius opened his mouth, was just about to say something, when he closed it again. Curiously, Kakashi noted he was grinning from ear to ear, but he didn’t explain what made him so happy. “I don’t know actually. It feels like being pressed through a tube, and then you’re somewhere else…” His forehead furrowed in thought.

“A tube?” Kakashi repeated. “like…” he formed a tiny hole with his thumb and index finger.

“Yes, like that.”

Kakashi wondered if that meant something. Was this odd tube-like feeling just the high velocity from traveling through space in such a short time or was it another dimension that the wizards traveled through to get somewhere else. “And other…worlds?” Again, he was unhappy with his lacking vocabulary.

Sirius looked at him confused. “What do you mean other worlds?”

“Can you travel to other worlds?”

Again, there was a grin on Sirius’ face. It looked oddly proud, Kakashi thought. Approving. “I don’t quite understand what you mean,” Sirius admitted. Then, however, something sparked in his eyes as if he had remembered something. “You mean like… traveling to other planets? Or other dimensions? Like they do in these muggle comic books sometimes?”

Planets, dimensions… comic… Kakashi had no idea what any of that meant. “What books?” he asked confused.

“Comic books,” Sirius cried out. He looked almost stupidly excite now. “I bought them as a teenager, whenever I was in muggle London. Mom would hate them. Sometimes Peter brought some to Hogwarts after sum—” Sirius stopped short. At once, all mirth left him. Where his eyes had lit up with excitement and nostalgic joy just moments ago, suddenly all life drained out of them. He stared at Kakashi, then he turned away staring at his hands. Kakashi saw him blink rapidly. “Anyway…,” Sirius coughed, his voice sounded weak and raspy as if he were close to tears. “Ahm… It’s a style of book muggles use. With images… It’s not important.”

“What are planets and dimensions?” Kakashi asked not wanting to linger on the whole comic thing, after it had so clearly touched a sore spot for Sirius.

“Yeah, right,” Sirius visibly perked up, but it was only with effort, grief still straining his voice and the easy excitement hadn’t returned into his eyes. “Planets are… like this, this is earth. The globe. And then there is the moon. And beyond that, there are other planets. Like Jupiter and Uranus.” Sirius stopped there. His lips twitched as if he had remembered an old joke, but now couldn’t see the fun in it anymore. “That’s planets. Some think, there might be some planets out there, outside of our solar system that are inhabited.”

It got really confusing for Kakashi then. He could follow Sirius all the way past when he mentioned the moon, but then, he quickly lost himself in all those new words.

“Dimensions are like… when, let’s say you believe there’s a different world like ours that exists parallel to this, in a different dimension.” Maybe it was the lack of complicated vocabulary that helped Kakashi understand this definition far better than the one before.

“That… Can you use that? Travel to dimensions?”

Sirius thought about it for a while. For too long, Kakashi feared. If wizards could use interdimensional travel, surely, they would know about it. But the fact that he had to think for so long… Didn’t he know how his own magic worked? Was it so intuitive for him, that he could use magic without ever thinking about the technicalities – like asking himself if that ‘tube’ was a dimension or just the feeling of velocity?

“I don’t think so,” Sirius said after a while. “I mean, I couldn’t think of any spell that would teleport me into a different dimension. But I never really tried.”

“What if…?” Kakashi thought about how to phrase his next question. “What if dimensions are not whole worlds. But small. Just… things that overlap in space or time? Or routes you take to get from one place to somewhere else.”

Sirius stared at him. Then after a while he blinked. “That was… Your English got a lot better!” Then he shook his head actually thinking about his question. Kakashi could see the wheels spin. “Well, I guess... You’re asking whether Apparating – uh, teleporting I mean – is a form of hopping from place to place through a dimension. But I don’t…Magic is not that technical. The tube-like feeling is from the spinning movement. It makes people feel nauseated. It’s not an actual tube.” Kakashi was disappointed. “But maybe… maybe there are other things. Like we have time travel.”

“Time travel?” Kakashi repeated, interested.

“Yes… but no,” Sirius added after a moment of thought. “No, if I understood the theory correctly, with a time turner, you don’t travel into a separate dimension, but our own…” He shook his head. “But for space, definitely. We can hide things in space with magic. I think that would be a fitting description.” 

Sirius said this last part as if it was natural.

“Explain.”

“We can hide buildings, and entire streets overlapping with the muggle world. We can make things be much bigger from the inside then the outside. Like it might just look like a regular bag, but inside it might be as big as a three-room flat.” Sirius gestured with his hands as he spoke, showing the size of a small purse and then gesticulating widely to encompass the entire room around them.

To Kakashi that sounded a lot like his own storage seal. With his own technique Kakashi was creating and using miniature pocket dimensions and apparently there was something similar in the magical world. That was somewhere to start. If both the shinobi world and this magical world new a form of dimensional travel, was there a chance that somehow by chance they had accessed the same dimension and thus connected their worlds?

As a theory, Kakashi decided that it held some merit, although it opened up a whole different set of questions. Like: Kakashi didn’t remember using any jutsu – never mind one that would allow him to travel through dimensions. Had he used his summoning to reverse summon himself to this odd place? He somehow doubted it. His summoning was very specific in which dimensions it could access. It allowed travel strictly between the shinobi world and the ninken’s Kennels and no other dimension. And the Kennels couldn’t be accessed by anybody who hadn’t signed the contract with his ninken. So, how would someone in the magical world access it and somehow pull Kakashi through? Speaking of which, who even would have done that. Kakashi hadn’t woken up close to another wizard that might have accessed whichever dimension he might have travelled through to pull Kakashi into this world…

He still didn’t know enough, Kakashi decided. He needed more information. And – he realized – it was difficult prying for information without telling Sirius what he needed exactly. Kakashi looked at Sirius, contemplating. The other man was waiting patiently for him to say something. Should he tell him?

But how would he even phrase that? Would Sirius believe him or think he was making something up? And what about Kakashi’s decision to keep his true identity a secret? No, he should wait a little longer. He had only started to grasp the concept of this ‘magic’. In a few days, maybe he’d be able to solve his issues all on his own. Then he could help Sirius catch the rat and go back home as soon as he was done here. There was no rush. They were still a long journey away from this Hogwarts-school – If the rat even was in Hogwarts.

And before that, Kakashi had no intent to leave anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've searched the entire Archive for good (Post-)Azkaban Sirius-centered fics that are not Wolfstar fics! Now, I'm frustrated because there are only so few in comparison!  
> From that I have to admit I've recently grown a dislike for Wolfstar (so for those who don't know: the SiriusxRemus ship). However, while increasingly having lost my interest in the SiriusxRemus ship, now feeling only contempt for the ship, I have grown to rather love reading/writing Azkaban-stuff! Damn Azkaban is such an angsty place to make characters suffer. I'll probably build in a few Azkaban flashbacks into this fic, because it's just such a horrific place. I don't know how Kakashi will deal with it, if he eventually has to face dementors.
> 
> Speaking of Kakashi, I finally got to build in some Kakashi angst. I just have to be honest, I love Sakumo Hatake. His fate in the Naruto canon is just so tragic it twists my little heart. I know there are a lot of fics out there quite critical about him and his decision to kill himself / leave Kakashi, but while of course i'd rather he wouldn't have done that, my heart bleeds for Sakumo almost as much as it does for Kakashi. The man worked all his life for the sake of the village, risked his life and health on missions and then made a choice to put his mission before his comrades. And the village thanked him for years of services by austrazising him. Even the people he saved insulted and spat at him! It really makes me hate Konoha. If Sakumo hadn't been there the mission would have failed anyway AND they would have lost all the shinobi on the mission. The people are just so ungrateful. I find it especially jarring because allthroughout NAruto we learn how all the important characters value their comrades lives. That's what most naruto-characters were all about, and the love you have for your comrades is something old Sarutobi even preached to the young kids. Where were you, Sarutobi, when the village you loved pushed one of your best shinobi to suicide? (though honesty, not that Sakumo is the only one to become a victim of their own village... just look at naruto himself...)  
> I just always feel like in many ways, Sakumo was a pioneer for his village. Like when he safed his comrades but abadoned the mission he had to pay for it with his life, but now everybody has learned that it's the right thing to do.
> 
> (Also I really wanted to put in the tidbit of Sirius calling Kakashi 'Prongs')


	10. X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Boy! I've been productive lately. I've now written up to chapter 18 and I'm considering ramping up the posting schedule because after this chapter things will happen! So maybe I will post again tomorrow or on monday.  
> I hope you like the chapter. Take it as like.... a last reprieve before everything falls aparat.

It was still cloudy and dark outside when Sirius woke up. Kakashi was already awake, leaning against the wall flicking through one of the newspapers he kept from the first days of their journey. Sirius’ own face scowled down at him from the front page.

That’s right, Sirius thought with trepidation.

As he stood up, he felt his limbs and back ache. He was used to sleeping on the hard ground, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel the pain in his joints. In comparison to this harsh concrete floor, the earlier nights on soft forest ground in his dog form had been comfortable. He immediately regretted that he hadn’t turned into his dog form for the night. As a human, sleeping on hard surfaces was much less comfortable.

He glanced at Kakashi. He couldn’t complain, Kakashi did that too. And he did it for Sirius. Unlike Sirius, Kakashi could sleep wherever he wanted – or at least he could ask for help and surely there were institutions taking care of stranded children… 

Once I’m gone, Kakashi won’t have to worry about that anymore, he knew, but although he knew that was the only right course of action, the trepidation didn’t leave him.

“I won’t turn again,” Sirius said his voice quiet, “once we get close to London.” He made a vague gesture. “It isn’t safe with so many people.”

“You said before,” Kakashi said putting the newspaper away and turning towards Sirius.

“Right…” It felt like a goodbye to Sirius. It was goodbye. They would spend all day together, but it was unlikely they would talk again. “I just… want to thank you.”

Kakashi looked at him as if he didn’t expect Sirius’ gratitude. To him, Sirius feared, it surely felt as if Sirius was using him, forcing him into this position. Thanking Kakashi for it now, would seem like irony. But Sirius’ gratitude was real. He owed this kid more than he could ever pay him back.

You can’t pay him back anything. You have nothing to give, and once he’s back to Japan, even if a miracle happened and you get your name cleared… What are the chances you’ll ever meet him again?

But he wouldn’t say this to Kakashi. What a way to terrify him! The convicted mass-murderer wants to know where you live, so he can send his thank-you-note later.

Kakashi’s single eyebrow furrowed a little. His eyes shifted away as if he didn’t know what to do with Sirius’ open gratitude. “The mission isn’t complete.” 

Sirius was rather confused at that. “Mission?” he asked, shortly distracted from the sense of loss he felt at the idea of being alone again soon.

“Mission,” Kakashi repeated. “Killing the rat.”

Sirius understood then. “It’s more… a goal?” Maybe if he had contact to more people, Kakashi could talk to in London, the boy would get a better handle on the language. He was already getting really good but sometimes his choice of words didn’t quite fit.

At that Kakashi grabbed the newspaper he had put aside earlier. “Mission,” he said, pointing at an article about an interview with a scientist about some muggle space mission called Galileo.

“Yes,” Sirius said, “I guess you could use mission, but that makes it sound rather militaristic… or well,” he gestured towards the article and gave a half-hearted shrug. “Official. But yes, I guess you could say, I’m on a mission.” He smiled a little. It sounded right.

Kakashi stared at him. His single eye revealed little of what he thought, but Sirius had the distinct feeling, that he was talking too much. Sirius chuckled a little embarrassed. Then the boy put the paper away again. “Is it your first time?”

“My first…,” he stumbled over the word, “mission?” Sirius guessed it was a good word to describe what he had done for the order. “No, I told you of the war. I went on missions for… well for my side.” As gleeful as he felt revealing all of the secrets of the magical world to this boy just to spite Fudge and the ministry, the same was not true for the order. It was a secret organization. If the boy knew too much about that, it might even put him at risk if Voldemort should ever return.

“I mean killing.”

The way Kakashi’s voice didn’t even change tune at the word gave Sirius the chills. The way he said it… It was not the only time Sirius noted these particularities. When he used the words ‘murder’ or ‘war’, he remained similarly calm and unfazed. Sirius was reasonably sure that it was because these words were still new for Kakashi. He knew what they translated to in his own language, but he still just thought of them as words, didn’t associate them with the evil they described.

“Did you kill before?” Kakashi asked again.

Stuck on the way the words came out in a monotone drawl, Sirius only registered the question now.

“No!” His answer came hastily, loud with desperation in his words. He had told Kakashi, that he hadn’t. Had Kakashi not believed him? Why would he? “I didn’t! Kakashi, I… I know you have no reason to believe me, but… I would never…” But that was a lie wasn’t it? He had already told Kakashi that he wanted to kill Peter. “I mean Peter is… Pe-Peter is different.”

Kakashi blinked slowly as if he had trouble understanding Sirius’ answer. Sirius feared it wasn’t due to the language barrier. “Because he killed a friend?” He finally asked his eye narrowing a little.

“Yes! Yes,” Sirius felt almost relieved as he agreed. “He betrayed his best friends, killed them. So, he deserves it.” Something in Kakashi’s eye made Sirius desperate. It was big and wide now, brightened almost to a translucent grey. There was pain there, that Sirius couldn’t place. But he had to believe Sirius! “But I wouldn’t… I’m not a killer. I wouldn’t do that to…” But all his words sounded empty even to him. How could he proclaim his plan to murder somebody in one sentence and then say that he wasn’t a killer and wouldn’t murder. How would anybody believe that?

“Why?” Kakashi asked, but the question was quiet, almost lost to Sirius. He barely even heard him.

Why what? It didn’t make sense to Sirius, and as he failed to answer, Kakashi didn’t repeat it as if he regretted having asked in the first place. Or maybe, as if he had chosen the wrong word and realized that now.

“You have to believe me, please,” Sirius continued after a moment. In London, he’d leave the boy with the police or maybe the embassy, and then… “When we’re in London, they’ll tell you otherwise. They’ll tell you all sorts of stories, I’m sure. But they’re not true! You… You have to—” But then Sirius stopped and retreated into himself. No… Kakashi didn’t have to do anything. He couldn’t demand this after everything the boy had already done for him. He couldn’t force him to believe Sirius. If everything went as planned, as soon as the boy was safely back home, Sirius guilt or innocence would be of little consequence to Kakashi.

“We should walk,” Kakashi declared after a moment of silence, standing up ready to move.

Yes, Sirius thought, before he transformed into his dog form one final time before they would reach London. This was a goodbye.

******* 

After Chelmsford the area they walked through was more and more populated. Small villages followed one after the other, separated only by short stretches of fields. The traffic too increased. In fact, it increased so much, that after only an hour, Kakashi thought there was little point in avoiding the main roads as he had done the days before. In fact, especially as they got closer to this five-million-megacity, it probably made sense to start hiding in crowds rather than avoid people entirely.

They soon reached a town called Ingatestone. They hadn’t eaten yet, so Kakashi used some of the money he had left to buy them a late breakfast at a bakery. A few people asked Kakashi where he came from, and if he was alone. By now, Kakashi had enough practice in the language, that he could easily tell them, that he was just on a tour with his dog, coming from Chelmsford. They thought it was a little far, so Kakashi decided, in the next village, he’d tell them, he’d started in Ingatestone.

However, he missed the point when they left Ingatestone. He knew, he must have left the town already. It was surely four miles since they had entered Ingatestone, and now he stood in front of a town sign, telling him he was entering a town called ‘Brentwood’. But all the way, when before towns and villages were always separated by fields and farms, now, there wasn’t a single stretch of road without buildings flanking it on both sides.

The houses were spread far, with big premises, not quite urban spacing… but still… They weren’t even in London yet, and already there were so many people living here. He was sure he could have fit the entire population of Konoha into the buildings here, and they hadn’t even entered the capital yet. Brentwood, he quickly noted, wasn’t even a village anymore.

He walked past rows of brick buildings, with neat front lawns, gardens in the back, cars standing on driveways in front of the houses. There were children playing outside, running across the roads kicking a ball, the way Kakashi only remembered from his very earliest days in the academy. There were small parks with more children and families, old people taking walks and others taking their dogs out.

“Wow! That’s a huge dog!” A boy yelled as he came running out from the driveway his ball forgotten. “So cool!” Kakashi’s instincts flared up in alarm, as he saw the kid run up to him, yelling. The boy dashed right at him, and for a second, Kakashi considered kicking him away, not sure, what the kid wanted, then he saw the broad grin directed at Sirius, and Kakashi realized the child meant no harm. He immediately retreated a step.

Shit, he’d been about to… This was just a kid, and Kakashi might not like people rushing right at him, but if he hadn’t caught himself in time, he might have killed the boy. How old was he? Twelve? Old enough to be a genin, sure, but in this world… In this world, time worked differently, children grew up differently.

This was just a boy… not like Kakashi, not a trained killer. What would Sirius say if he knew?

It was something, Kakashi had mulled over for the entire day. The way the man had reacted when Kakashi asked him if he had killed before… It was the first time, Kakashi truly understood. Killing was seen as something evil and vile – and of course it was. Even in Kakashi’s world, civilians saw it as dirty business but at least acknowledged that at times, it had to be done, but in this world… In this world…

Was that, what it meant to be at peace? If this country was at peace there was no need for killers? He finally understood. In this world, there was no need for shinobi, no need for silent assassins and trained killers. In this world, if Sirius knew… There was no need for people like Kakashi. In fact, there was no place for him here. To these people, Kakashi would be a monster. He had purpose now. He would help Sirius find the rat – and then he would have to leave, because there was no point of him being here. None of his skillset would lend anything of value to this country where people like him were not needed.

Even in Konoha, Kakashi often felt like a pariah. The son of the White Fang, the genius who had finished the academy at age five, the scum who had let all his comrades die, the friend killer… There was a darkness in him, that was foreign even to most shinobi. But in Konoha there was a place for people like him: the ANBU black ops, an elite unit of killers and assassins, who were the ultimate, sharpest tool for their village, forsaking themselves for the sake of the Leaf.

Here, however, there was no place like ANBU. No place for Kakashi. If Sirius knew about his deeds, he’d be appalled… There was nothing good Kakashi had to offer.

Which begged the question… He had always thought that war was inevitable, and shinobi were a reaction to that. But maybe it was the other way round. Maybe war wasn’t inevitable, and it was shinobi – people like him – who caused it. It was the question of the chicken or the egg. If in a peaceful society, like this one, there was no need for shinobi, didn’t shinobi have a vested interest in creating war, or else become irrelevant?

“Hey, hey! Can I play with your dog? What’s its name? Are you listening?” He had missed the first half of the boy’s barrage of questions. Although asking if he could play with Sirius, he was already scratching him behind the ears, wildly ruffling his fur. Sirius seemed to enjoy the attention. The rumbling in his chest made it obvious.

“Uh… It’s—It’s Shaggy.” Kakashi momentarily almost forgot the English language.

“That’s funny,” the kid commented fisting his hands into shaggy black fur. “It fits. And you? What’s your name? Are you playing ninja, that mask is so cool? Where did you get it?”

Kakashi froze as he heard the word. Ninja… It was the same word, pronounced differently, but of course, he knew exactly what it meant. Ninja? Was it so obvious, what he was? Panicked he tried to school his features. Were there shinobi in this world after all? Shinobi skilled enough that he hadn’t seen any, yet a mere child knew about them! A shiver ran down his spine in alarm. He hadn’t noticed anything! How could he have missed that? Not even his instincts had warned him. Even now, as he warily sharpened his senses, cast out his chakra to find anybody hiding in the vicinity who might already be on his tail, he couldn’t find anybody. Children playing, families, teenagers and young people lounging around, elderly people enjoying the sun in their gardens… Dogs, cats, birds in trees… No shinobi.

“How did you guess?” Kakashi asked with a light smirk, masking his rising panic in nonchalant humor.

“The mask.” The boy giggled. “I wanted to be a ninja too at Halloween last year, but then I was a pirate.”

Kakashi frowned, not understanding a word. The boy had been a pirate last year? He didn’t look like a hardened criminal.

“Halloween?” he asked, hoping if he found out the meaning of that word, he could make more sense of what the kid said.

The boy however frowned at him. “Yeah. Last year. What did you go as? Did you go around for trick and treat?” He continued cuddling Sirius, now he put both arms around the dog and hugged him tight, scratching his back. Sirius gave a short woof, and then pushed the boy over with a gentle nudge and started tickling him with his snout. The boy laughed lying on the pavement.

“I didn’t go ‘trick or treat’” Kakashi said, deciding that was safer than having to pretend that he knew what that was.

“Boring!” The boy exclaimed, but it was difficult to understand with the way he laughed. “I bet you think you’re too old for it! My sister says she’s too old for it now, but she’s only fifteen. Anyway, why are you dressed up as a ninja now?” 

Kakashi scoffed. Dressed up? Wait, dressed up? If he translated that correctly… did the boy think he was just playing at being a ninja but not actually being a ninja. “I’m not ‘dressed up’.” He gave the boy a mockingly enraged glare. “I am ninja.”

“Yeah right,” the boy rolled his eyes. “Anyway, what’s with that weird accent… Oh, I know! Cause you’re Japanese!”

Kakashi scowled. How had the kid figured that out so quickly? In Cromer adults hadn’t even figured out the language he was using on their first attempt and Kakashi had been somewhat proud of his success in learning the English language. Was his accent that bad? “How do you know?”

“Cause you’re a ninja, stupid!” The boy laughed. Kakashi decided against feeling insulted. “Ninja are Japanese right?” 

Oh… Oh! Apparently, in this world’s Japan they knew ninja too, but not here in England? It made sense, he realized, as his kunai knives also seemed to resemble tools from Japanese history. “How do you know I’m not an English ninja?” Kakashi asked, fishing for more information.

The boy shook his head. “’Cause there aren’t any. Only Halloween, of course.” Again, that word. “Halloween, I’ll be a ninja.”

“Dress up as ninja, you mean?” Kakashi asked to make sure he now understood it correctly.

The boy pouted finally freeing himself of Sirius tickling wet snout. “Yeah, dress up.” He seemed to deflate a little. “Anyway, where are you going?” He looked down the road as if he hoped Kakashi would tell him, that he and ‘Shaggy’ just lived around the corner.

“London.”

The boy sputtered. “London? On foot?” He looked almost disgusted at the idea. “Well, have fun.”

Kakashi nodded. He was about to continue their journey when he thought about something. “Hey, kid. What’s your name?”

“Charlie!” The boy turned back around with a grin, already walking back to his house.

Charlie… He had read that name quite a few times in the newspapers, a common name, he guessed.

Only when Sirius barked and nudged his hand with his snout, did Kakashi continue their journey.

******** 

Kakashi felt uneasy. Sirius was sure of that. As they first entered Brentwood, he was still alright. The first part of the town was a suburban living area, and Kakashi seemed just fine with that. However, as they walked more into Brentwood proper, reaching the town center, things changed. It was a sunny afternoon and people were out and about filling the squares, streets, shops, and cafés. Kakashi didn’t seem to feel comfortable with so many people around.

Sirius had thought he’d be the one to have problems with the denser population close to London, and in fact, he was terrified by the idea of the city, with wizarding London so close-by… But instead, it was Kakashi who’s eyes flitted between crowds looking at everybody, glaring into shops and cafés as if he expected to be shot at. He didn’t once slow down his step, nor did he change path, even when they walked past a group of leather-jacket wearing youths who Sirius might have felt kinship with in his own youth, but who he knew seemed often threatening to other muggles. Kakashi didn’t seem at all worried by them. Yet he jumped and glared at random shadows. Sirius could smell the unease rolling off the boy. 

It was unnerving, even more so, as Sirius’ senses sent him contradictory messages. His snout was certain that Kakashi was afraid, but nothing Kakashi did confirmed that. Sure, his eyes were quickly moving into every direction, but that might also be from curiosity. Kakashi’s shoulders stayed comfortably slouched, his hands were in his pockets and whenever he met somebody’s eyes, he showed his gentle eye-smile. He looked completely at ease. But he didn’t smell like it.

Kakashi had been surprised at London’s population and even stunned when he saw Norwich, Sirius remembered. Maybe he really lived in a tiny town in Japan and had never traveled into Tokyo, Osaka or another one of the big cities. Maybe this was really all new to him. Was he afraid of crowds? The muggles had a word for that, he knew… In any case, if that was the case, going to London might have been the worst idea Sirius could have had. If the boy suffered a panic attack in London…

…that would only call attention to us, a pathetically coward part of him thought. I’d have to run.

No! If the boy has a panic attack, you’ll help. He demanded of himself. After all he did for you! You’ll make sure he’s alright!

The ministry won’t care if I get caught helping a kid. They’ll put me pack into Azkaban regardless.

If you’ve sunk so low, you’d abandon a friend – the only one who showed kindness towards you in years – you’d deserve to be there! You will not abandon him!

I couldn’t live with myself…

It was already hard enough, living with himself as it was. But going back to Azkaban before he had killed Peter… Harry would be in danger. If he had to decide between Kakashi and Harry. Abandoning Harry would mean failing Lily and James all over again! 

***** 

Kakashi didn’t really have a concept in his mind, how to fit five million people into a single city, so as they closed in on London with every step, he didn’t know what to expect. It became clear very soon, that getting into London meant following huge roads with a lot of traffic through a number of already big enough towns, that shifted seamlessly one into the other. He started developing an eye for it.

In the shinobi world, a town was a settlement surrounded by nature, here a town was a settlement surrounded by other settlements. Just outside the towns, there were some short stretches of greenery, maybe a park, maybe a small paddock. Mostly, however, these in-between-town-areas that marked the ending of one and the beginning of the next town, were dominated by industry and big shops. He spotted quite a few places selling these stinking cars, one that sold gardening huts and furniture, a big parking lot and one that sold gravestones.

The stones here looked different, big junks of rock jutting out of the earth in roughly rectangular shapes. Still the purpose seemed clear enough. He thought of the Memorial Stone and the Konoha graveyard and how he hadn’t paid his respect to his former teammates in over a week now. He hadn’t visited Kushina-nee and Minato-sensei’s graves at all since the funeral. If they missed him, he wondered.

But no, he reminded himself. They were dead. They couldn’t miss anybody. It was the other way around. He missed them.

Finally, Kakashi decided it was enough. They had gone from house to house, from settlement to settlement. He had followed quiet town roads and then the highly trafficked main road to get to their destination quicker, but it was already getting dark and after their third major round about, he found a small park area, and decided that they could sleep there unperturbed rather than having to sleep on the street or having to ask somebody for shelter. Sirius didn’t turn, so their evening was quiet. They ate something, what Kakashi had bought at a restaurant by the name KFC, which was apparently just a lot of chicken with some potato side dish he hadn’t eaten before. It was terribly greasy he thought, so he left most of it for Sirius.

Kakashi was getting short on money, he realized as he counted the remaining 24 £. He didn’t actually look forward to selling a lot of his gear, although he remembered the man in Aylsham telling him, that there would be bigger vendors over in London, so maybe he could get more money out of a single kunai.

Although Kakashi missed the English lessons and conversation with Sirius somewhat, he wasn’t bored. He had lived through much worse. Guarding some spoiled prince for a week from the shadows… that had been boring. Having to wait for days in camp until an informant sent the necessary intel to continue with their mission… that was boring! Enjoying a warm night out with dog-Sirius wagging his tail softly against the ground while Kakashi read in the old newspaper again, wasn’t boring in comparison. Despite the lack of conversation, he wasn’t even alone.

******* 

The next morning the weather had gotten even warmer. The air was almost uncomfortably dry and hot. Kakashi had woken up to the abysmal stench of cars, exhaust fumes and burned rubber. It itched in his nose, almost hurt. He blocked off the chakra flow into his nose. Traffic stank so badly, that he preferred smelling nothing at all. His nose was still sensitive, though, and he was thankful for his mask. He wondered how Sirius could take it.

They continued their journey without delay. He felt rather amused, even gave a short snort, as he noticed that they were following a road called ‘Main Road’ although being clearly not the main road, as it was only one lane in each direction and nowhere near as highly trafficked as the one he had travelled before.

It was only a few hours later, that Kakashi realized that all this, all these villages, towns and cities that got bigger and bigger the further he went, were actually part of London. Of that metropolitan region, Sirius had mentioned. And then he started to understand. He had walked the better part of two days through town after town after town and hadn’t seen forest nor fields or farms at all. And he still hadn’t even reached the center of the city.

That was how one could fit five million people into a single place. This area was huge. 

In a place called Ilford, he first noted that the buildings were getting bigger. And not just the two- or three-story buildings he had already seen before, or even some higher multi-story apartment buildings the way he knew them from Konoha as well. Here suddenly there were buildings reaching into the sky. They rivaled the Hokage building and the church towers he had seen in other English towns before, only there were a lot of them.

And it stank! By all the Hokage it stank abysmally. His senses were tingling, his instincts screaming and his nose hurting despite not even concentrating any chakra into his senses. It was loud: incessant honking, yelling and the noises from multiple construction sites causing a constant droning in his head that made him feel nauseated. And there were so many people. And they were aggressive.

Screaming at each other to go faster, go slower, speak louder, stop, drive, watch themselves. Any minute Kakashi felt like any one of them might turn around and deck him in the face just because. Multiple times he had to dodge some cyclist or careless pedestrian, or they’d run right through him. None of them knew or seemed to care about what personal space was.

And that was dangerous! It was dangerous with him because he was dangerous. Overall, there weren’t more people here than in the busiest areas of Konoha, yet at least the civilians from Konoha were taught not to recklessly run into shinobi. One could never know how they would react. Even among his fellow shinobi Kakashi had a bit of a reputation and most kept a safe distance, with the only exception being Guy, who would still try to sneak up on him. Of course, there was a difference between Guy and these Londoners. Guy would survive Kakashi’s instinctive counterattack. He could take an elbow in the gut and knew what to do if he suddenly found himself in a chokehold. Guy knew how to calm Kakashi down again. Guy knew Kakashi. And Kakashi knew Guy.

These, however, were strangers. Their scents were foreign and overwhelming, their language still strange. And so, although he knew they were a peaceful people, his instincts yelled ‘danger’ and ‘enemy’ every time they came too close to him.

He had to get a grip on himself!

He shoved his fists into his pockets, tried to relax his body. If he could just get the stress out of his shoulders, if he could walk on his flat food instead of the balls of his feet always ready to jump… Calm, calm… He had to control himself. Had to make sure he wouldn’t hurt anybody. With closed eyes, Kakashi missed the moment they entered the city of London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Sirius and Kakashi in London and a little flashback I'm quite proud of.
> 
> also PS. I recently realized I made a mistake in Kakashi's description. This won't come up until in a few chapters still, but I thought I fess up to it alredy, so you know, I did consider it. When I first started writing the story, it was rather difficult finding a decrption for Kakashi that would fit his physical appearance into the 'real world'. You know, Manga characters have odd features, hair colors and styles that don't really go well in the real world. Because it is such an awkward problem, I decided to mostly ignore it and just imagine Kakashi the way we know him. (So this Kakashi just looks like manga kakashi) while also having other characters just ignore the oddities. Like Kakashi's grey hair colour doesn't cause confusion. His crooked hair style might be uncommon but isn't really worth noting for Sirius etc. I faired fairly well with that for the most part making the only feature everybody keeps wondering about: the mask. (Due to current events I feel the need to inform my younger readers, that there was a time when wearing mask in public was seen as rather odd.) However, what I forgot about was to address the matter of 'race'. Kakashi is of course Japanese. Which meas to fit him in this world - he would have some japanese features that don't necessarily exist in the manga, and that (let's be honest) Sirius might already have mentioned in one of his descriptions if he had looked for it. So I decided to 'solve' this issue by making Kakashi 'look' mixed race. So he has certain asian/japanese features, but especially hiding half his face under the mask and in combination with the grey hair colour, it's not immediately noticed. However, once people realize he has an accent, or when they find out it's japanese, it's easily believable, because he looks 'undefinable' asian. Does that make sense. This is just one of the odd hoops I have to jump through, trowing a manga character into the real world.  
> I just don't want to make him 'white' because that would seem wrong. But on the other hand, I would have to severely change his description if I wanted to give him 'overt' japanese features. So please just go with it. Kakashi is a masked teenager with one eye, a wild tuft of crookedly standing grey hair and some 'japanese features'.


	11. XI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First I all but promise a second update, and then I almost forget it...

Sirius was nervous walking through London. He suspected wizards around every corner, aurors waiting for him. Even the muggles were on the lookout for him. Although he knew that they couldn’t possibly know about his animagus form part of him feared it still. Part of him was almost convinced they knew all his secrets and he walked right into a trap. He hadn’t been that close to the ministry ever since his brief stint in the ministry holding cell before they had shipped him off to Azkaban. Getting so close to it again so short after his escape wasn’t his plan.

Still, Sirius loved this city. He grew up here, and although he always hated the way he was raised, had little fond memory of his childhood and had left his family – and London – as early as he possibly could – at the age of 16 – he had always loved this city. He was, after all a Londoner. In his adulthood, the few years he had lived as a free man, he had moved back here, rented a small apartment in muggle London and painted the town red. He’d lived the bohemian life in the late Seventies. He had listened to muggle rock music, danced in clubs and bars, bought his bike – magically tuned of course, which wasn’t quite legal. The muggle youth had felt daring and rebellious, striking out against their parents and their boring conventions, and although he was no muggle, he had felt a certain kinship with them.

Whenever he thought back about his years before Azkaban, he would call his time in Hogwarts easily the best time in his life. The time right after Hogwarts, however, had all the potential to be even better. And then the war escalated. Then the McKinnon’s died, and Benji Fenwick and the Prewett-twins. Then Lily and James were murdered. Then Azkaban.

Yet now, a decade later he was back here. But there was no pretending. Time had moved on. His friends stayed dead and London had changed.

It still smelled familiar. Fewer stinking factories, but more traffic, but still. The pavement smelled the same. The summer heat still reflected off the street; the air hung stuck between asphalt and brick walls, dry and perfectly still. The buildings still looked the same although there were a few new ones and although the names on the shops were different now. But it seemed cleaner. London as he remembered it, was a wild place full of the arts, but also of street gangs, trash, and smog. Now instead it was a busy place, with people in suits hurrying from A to B and no time to linger in between. He was looking out for leather clad gangs lounging around corners and found none. The youth wore different clothes now and he could hardly make them out in the constant traffic. He felt no kinship to them anymore.

There were fewer graffiti’s on the walls as if the city paid to have them removed, advertisements were everywhere and even the political banners, slogans and flags that people had hung around their houses… half of them he didn’t even know what they were about anymore.

Still, this was London, and Sirius was a Londoner, so despite the changes to London and despite the danger of being here… this was home.

He whacked his tail happily as they crossed a bridge over well-known train tracks and passed a bar he had gone to in his youth. For a moment, he forgot all about the teenager traveling with him, and followed the well-known path up to the entry, sniffing the single step leading to the door. Could he recognize any of the scents? Were there still some of the people he had partied with so many years ago, that might still frequent this place? Was it still the same owner?

But it all smelled different.

And then, everything happened very quickly! He heard the rattling from the oncoming train already before it arrived. Felt the vibration of the earth in his paws. The trains had evolved too, he realized, as it closed in with unheard of speed. And then the whole bridge rattled, there was the sound of metal ringing, and it had passed by right under them.

Then a loud honking, the squeaking of tires. An odd sound, like a chirping of birds, for a split second he saw his own shadow flicker in blueish light. Sirius whirled around, to see what was happening:

There stood Kakashi panting heavily in the middle of the road. He had gone pale, hands drawn from his pocket in a gesture as if he wanted to punch through the hood of the car that had come to a screeching halt right in front of him.

How did he get there? Sirius was certain, that Kakashi had been right beside him just a second ago. Admittedly, he hadn’t looked out for Kakashi, forgetting all about him at the fond memory of a bar he had liked to frequent during the best years of his life… but he was still certain. Kakashi had been right there. He’d been right next to Sirius all day. How did he get into the middle of the street? And why?

Even more so, what did he think, raising his palm against the hood of a car? Jumping into traffic was dangerous, Sirius knew at least that much.

He barked loudly, trying to get Kakashi’s attention. All around them, cars had come to a sudden halt, now honking wildly. Sirius barked again, to tell Kakashi to get off the road.

The boy turned to him. He was still so pale. His eyes were impossibly wide, blinking slowly at Sirius as if he didn’t know himself what was happening.

“Bloody hell! Kid, get off the road!” The drive of the black Ford that almost run him over, leaned out of his window, waving Kakashi off the road. “Look out, damn it!”

Kakashi stared at the man, then he finally retracted his hand that was still harmlessly hovering in the air…

And then he was gone.

Just gone! Vanished, out of sight. Sirius didn’t even hear the typical bang of an apparition. It was perfectly quiet. And where Kakashi had just stood, there was only a small cloud of dust and a few leaves settling as if a wind had rushed through the street.

Shit! That was magic! He was certain. And Kakashi was a teenager, doing this right in front of muggles. It was only matter of time, until the ministry got wind of it, and then this whole place would be swarming with aurors. They’d look for Kakashi, fine him for Underage Sorcery and for breaking the Statute of Secrecy. The ministry had its ways… They would find Kakashi and with Kakashi they would find Sirius.

He had to get away from here!

And with that final thought, Sirius turned to run. He ran back over the bridge, took a sharp turn away from the busy road and then jumped over a short wall, onto a small parking lot. He pressed his body against the wall, and finally caught his breath, panting.

Only then, when his heartrate eventually calmed down again, and his rational thought caught up to him, did he realize that he had done exactly what he had told himself he wouldn’t do. Abandoning Kakashi in a foreign country and a foreign city, one he found obviously discomfortingly big, with a panic attack … or whatever had happened? But that must have been it, Sirius assumed. He couldn’t explain it any other way. Kakashi might have panicked at the sound of the oncoming train. Had he never seen a train before? – if he’d never been in a real city, that was certainly possible. Or was it just the onslaught of impressions overwhelming his senses?

It didn’t matter what it was, Sirius decided. Something had spooked the boy into jumping into oncoming traffic and then… disapparating.

Finally, that part too caught up to Sirius. He had apparated. Sure, there was no banging sound, sure it had looked different, but it was still magic. A different spell maybe, some form of accidental magic, but magic, nonetheless.

So, Kakashi had likely used that same method to get to England in the first place, which meant… if his accidental apparitions spread so far and wide, he could be anywhere! Was he even still in the city? Or in some other country across the world with a different language he had to learn from scratch. Abandoned, alone and frightened!

Sirius knew that feeling. And he didn’t wish it upon anybody. Least of all the first person who had been kind to him in over a decade.

********

_He was shivering. The cold permeated through thin cotton, it made his skin rough and brittle from dryness, hurting like a thousand tiny needle pricks._

_A month. Sirius was here for a month now. His tears had dried on his face, the anger had washed away, and the grief had turned in his stomach, the dementors making mourning so much more difficult. He couldn’t even think about all his good memories with James and Lily, lest the dementors would swoop down upon him, feast upon the few good things he had left in his life and leave him with nothing but sorrow. So, he had locked those memories away, deep within him, where nobody could access them, not even he himself. It was impossible to mourn like that._

_It left him with a purposeless sense of dread and exhaustion. And an impatient longing._

_He wouldn’t be here long, he knew. It was just a matter of days, until the ministry would see their mistake, before somebody would tell them that they had put an innocent man in Azkaban. Moony could tell them – Moony knew him! Moony knew he wouldn’t do what they thought he had done. Dumbledore could tell them! Dumbledore even had the pull to get him out of this wretched place. After serving with the order for years, Dumbledore knew him well enough. The other order members did too. Even the ministry ought to know, after all Sirius had been one of their newest recruits into the auror office, one of the most promising young trainees. During the war, Sirius had caught record numbers of death eaters at least among his peers. They knew his stance on all things pureblood, they knew his opinions of Voldemort and death eaters…_

_Soon, they would realize their mistake. It was just a matter of time. He knew these people and these people knew him. Currently, with Voldemort gone, there would be chaos, he assumed. Therefore, it was possible that one man would slip through the cracks. It was even understandable…_

_Peter. Who would have suspected Peter of all people?_

_Sirius tried not to think about his friend… former friend. The traitor. The name was bitter on his tongue. Peter Pettigrew… Just a month ago, he would have died for Peter, and gladly so, and now… Was Peter dead? If so, was Sirius glad about it? Had he hunted his old friend into committing suicide? Should he be glad for it? Or mourn the friend?_

_Thankfully, the memories of a young Peter were locked away in his mind, far away, with his memories of his other friends, of better times, when the marauders were still complete._

_Soon… He told himself, soon. Today, he’d think every morning. Tomorrow, he thought just before he went to sleep. Soon, they would see their mistake._

_Sirius knew!_

_Because he knew his friends. And they knew him. And they’d know that he’d rather forsake his life to constant torture through Voldemort, than betray the people he loved most._

_They knew him!_

_Yet ‘soon’ didn’t come. ‘Today’ nobody came to get him out of Azkaban. ‘Tomorrow’ would never be the day he waited for._

_Where was Harry? James and Lily had left him in his care, and yet… How was he supposed to raise Harry if he was locked up here? It felt like failing James and Lily all over again._

_To his family, Hagrid had said, to his relatives._

_They had fought about that because Sirius was the only family Harry had left. His godfather. And Moony of course, but Sirius knew, that neither the ministry nor broader society would trust a werewolf with a child. Moony wouldn’t either, Sirius knew, no matter how much Sirius would trust him with Harry. But Hagrid hadn’t meant Moony. And he hadn’t meant Sirius. He’d talked about Lily’s family. Her muggle sister and her muggle husband. Sirius had met the sister only once before the marriage when Lily’s parents were still alive. After their deaths, Penny… Pe…Petunia was her name. After their parents’ deaths, Petunia had blocked any attempts to keep in contact. Even when their sons were born, Harry and … what was the boy’s name? Dave? They had never met. Petunia and her family hated magic._

_And that was the family, Harry was supposed to grow up with?_

_No, Sirius was the rightful legal guardian and once free of Azkaban he would fulfill this role. Not just because he owed it to Lily and James, but he owed it to Harry to. Especially Harry! He had already failed the boy enough as a godfather by missing this first month… Never mind that it was his fault, that Lily and James…_

_He shouldn’t be thinking about that. Thinking about his own guilt in their deaths, would drain him of all his energy, all his will to fight and hold out. Soon…_

_He flexed his hands, dry skin hurting with the way it stretched over his knuckles. He was sitting on stone floor, a stone wall in his back. His cell was made of nothing but stone. Only on one side there were the iron bars through which he saw the dim corridor… more stone. It was all cold. The stone and the iron. The simple cotton prison garbs didn’t offer much protection against it._

_The cold was the worst, he decided, purposefully ignoring the dementors._

_Sirius listened. He listened to the noises of the prison as he did all day, every day for an entire month now. The noises of strangers breathing and crying and screaming, of them moving around in their cells, clothes brushing against stone, the thin wool slippers shuffling over the ground, people knocking against stone and bars… He kept telling himself, they were knocking. Just knocking. With knuckles dry and hurting from the cold like his own. Yet, it never sounded right. It didn’t sound like knuckles, but like something heavier. And the moans he always heard after…_

_His mind conjured up images of people bashing their heads against the walls, but he tried to suppress them. Knocking. Just knocking._

_The one thing he hoped to hear, he never heard. No steps on the corridor, nobody coming to get him out. The only things moving on the corridor, where the dementors, and they moved almost soundlessly, apart from the rattling air in their lungs._

_As he listened, his fingers played around with the manacles on his wrists. ‘Playing’ wasn’t the right word for it. He shifted and turned them, tried pushing them up and over his hands but they were too tight, leaving bloody trails where they scratched dry skin open. When he let go of them, the heavy iron would slip back into place, tight against his wrists, hurting where they were a little bit too tight._

Clink clink _. The sound of his manacles. The chains clinking together. Another sound he had become disturbingly familiar with._ Clink Clink.

Klack, klack _._

_He had waited so long for it, and now he almost missed it, almost mistook it for the ringing of his chains. But it wasn’t. It was the sound of hard soles on stone. A brisk pace down the corridor, two people moving next to each other, the steps only slightly out of rhythm._

Klackklack, Klackklack.

_The second step like an echo to the first._

_Sirius raised himself. The sound got louder. They were moving in his direction. Finally! He pushed himself up, stood on shaky feet, weak from a month of being barely fed. But when they came to take him back home, he wouldn’t be too weak to stand, he told himself. He’d walk out of this place, and he’d keep standing until he had Harry in his arms, with him in his apartment. Home._

_That left another question open. Where even was home, now?_

_When he thought of home, he still had the image of Lily and James in his mind. Their house in Godric’s Hollow. He imagined them and Harry, but also James’ parents, who had lived there before they’d died just two years ago. That was home for Sirius. With sixteen he had left his parents’ house and moved to the Potters. Home. Remus and Peter would visit over the holidays, and after Hogwarts almost every day. But now, four members of his family were dead and Peter…_

_Don’t think about it! He told himself._

_He couldn’t allow the dementors to smell the good memories, the image in his mind that the word ‘home’ had conjured up out of thin air. When the aurors came to take him home, he didn’t want to be the jabbering mess he was right after a dementor attack._

_What would Harry think, if he saw him like that? No, he had to be strong for Harry._

_Where would they even live? He doubted he still had his apartment in London, after being stuck here for a month. But even if, that place was too small to raise a child there. He could think about that later, he decided. All in due order._

_First, he would get out of here._

_The light was the first thing he saw. The pale shine of a_ Lumos _charm illuminating the corridor. Shadows dancing over stone walls. It looked quite frightening, but to Sirius it was a welcome sight. His friends finally came for him. They could have hurried a little, he thought almost jokingly._

_He looked over his shoulder to the far wall. Under the tiny window high above his head, he had used a stone to scratch lines into the wall. One for each day. Thirty-seven days now. He wondered, if there would be a compensation for his lost time, but truth be told, he barely cared about that, as long as he could hold Harry and see Moony within the day. Or maybe tomorrow, as it was already late evening._

_He blinked against the light, as it came closer. Azkaban itself had no source of light on its own. The dementors were factually blind and didn’t need light, so, although there were torch holders all along the corridor, nobody bothered to light them up. That didn’t mean, that Azkaban was a place of perpetual darkness. There were windows, tiny barred holes in rough stone that let daylight in. It was dim by day and dark by night. This bright_ lumos _light hurt in his eyes, but he welcomed it, nonetheless._

_People. He hadn’t actually seen other humans in weeks._

_There was somebody in the cell right opposite Sirius’ but he rarely came to the bars, and even with the dim daylight the angle was so that the other prisoner had to press their face against the bars right at the corner that was closest to Sirius, so that Sirius could see him at all. When Sirius had first been thrown in his cell, the other prisoner had talked to Sirius, pressed his face against the bars, so Sirius could see him. Sirius still remembered a pale face half hidden by a shaggy grey beard. The man had mostly complained about Sirius whining, and screaming whenever Sirius had yelled into the corridor, that he wanted to talk to somebody in charge._

_Once Sirius had calmed down a little, the prisoner had lost all interest in him. Now, Sirius was only certain that he hadn’t died yet because he sometimes heard his dry coughing from the other cell._

_The two people now coming close to him, were harshly silhouetted against the light. For Sirius, half-blinded by the_ lumos _, it was difficult to make out more than dark shapes that looked vaguely humanlike._

_“Can you…Can you take down the wand?” he asked, but his voice was rough and quiet, and his throat hurt from speaking just a few words. He was shocked at his own voice. It didn’t sound like him. “It’s blinding me.” He added nonetheless when they failed to follow his plea._

_They stopped in front of his cell, but instead of lowering the wand, the one on the right lifted it even higher. Shone it right into Sirius’ face. Sirius ducked away from it. He raised his hands to shadow his eyes._

Clink clink _. The chains jingled._

_“Is that him?” An unknown voice said. Sirius didn’t even know which of the two was speaking. “Prison number 390, Cell block D. It has to be him.”_

_“That’s him alright. I’d recognize him anywhere.” That voice!_

_“Alastor.” Sirius recognized him immediately. He put his hands down blinking against the bright light, trying to make out the face of his mentor, but it was impossible. They were still just dark and blurry shapes. “Alastor, take down the wand,” he asked again this time more casual, knowing that he spoke to a friend. When he joined the order, Alastor was already a veteran member. He had taught Sirius and his friends how to duel. He’d even suggested that Sirius could join the auror office._

“We need young blood like you, Black. The new recruits are all weaklings. They’d pee themselves at the sight of a real death eater,” _he had said. Sirius still heard his gruff voice in his head. Sirius had laughed, and answered, that he’d much rather break the law then help enforcing it. He had followed the invitation anyway just half a year after James’ wedding, because it felt like James was moving on with his life and Sirius thought he should do the same._

_“I can’t see anything.” But again, nobody did what he asked for._

_“You’re Sirius Black?” the other person asked. Sirius still couldn’t place it._

_“Yeah, obviously,” Sirius responded a bit annoyed now. After all, Moody had already recognized him._

_“I’m Steven Dobrint. I work for the administrative office of the Wizengamot. Here, that’s for you.”_

_The man held something through the bars. Sirius blinked down at it confused. It wasn’t what he had hoped for. Not a key to his shackles or the cell door. Instead there was a white envelope, the paper clean and pristine that it seemed out of place in this dark and dirty place. It reflected the light from the wand, seemed almost like its own source of light._

_“What is that?” Sirius asked confused, but he took it anyway. He turned the envelope around._

_Dobrint took his hand back, finally lowering the wand a little bit, though the movement didn’t seem purposeful. “The decision is hereby hand-delivered to the addressee,” he said._

_“What?” Sirius felt on edge. What was going on? They obviously weren’t taking him home. “Alastor, what is that?”_

_“I still can’t believe it, Black,” Alastor’s voice rumbled. There was anger in his tone. “I trusted you all this time. When Dumbledore told me, I was convinced he had it all wrong.”_

_Sirius shook his hand. The envelope felt useless in his hand. “What are you talking about?” he asked agitated. “I didn’t do anything.”_

_“I said, I’d go deliver it, ‘cause I had to look you in the eyes, but… You don’t even feel sorry, do you?”_

_He believed it… Sirius stared at him, now that the wand had lowered enough, he could make out Moody’s features. That was not anger on his face. Not_ just _anger at least. A shiver ran down his spine. That was hatred. “Moody,” Sirius said, his voice was weak and rough from lack of water. “I didn’t do it.” He took the last half step right to the bars, stretched his hand out to grab his mentor, but both men immediately retreated backwards. Sirius only grabbed empty air. “MOODY!” He yelled out._

_Their wands were both raised again. Both tips pointing in his face, as if they feared his wandless attack through the bars. Sirius immediately flinched back, but he stayed close to the bars, caught halfway between trying to grab for Moody again or retreating into his cell._

_“Maybe time will help you remember who your true friends were, Black,” Alastor said, his voice snide with hatred. “The ones you sold out and murdered.”_

_“I didn’t do it!” Sirius voice was wobbly. “I thought you…” He’d thought Alastor had come to free him._

_Alastor knew him! He’d known him for years. They’d spent days and nights hunting down death eaters. Sirius had taken more than one curse for his mentor._

_“Why did you even come here if not to help me?” Sirius cried out angrily. But he knew the answer immediately. The envelope. They had come to deliver a letter. “What is that?” he asked, his voice shaky as he pressed the letter against the bars. Raised up like that, he could see the ministry insignia neatly printed on the front._

_But Alastor didn’t go through the effort of explaining. His back was already to Sirius and he and Dobrint were quickly retreating taking the only source of light with them. “WAIT! MOODY!” Sirius yelled after him, letting go of the letter, to grab the bars with both hands. The iron was freezing cold in his palms. “ALASTOR! You can’t just leave me here!”_

_But they were gone. He rattled against the bars, and he yelled for them to come back, but then his throat gave out and he was condemned to silently stare into the dark corridor. When he turned around, the cell laid before him in darkness._

_He found the envelope again where it had fallen and slid into a corner. Unable to read it until the morning, he twisted it in his fingers all night. By the time the sun went up, the formerly pristine paper was dirty with his fingerprints. He ripped it open at first light._

_After the meeting with Alastor, he already knew he wouldn’t get out of Azkaban easily. They didn’t think he was innocent. So, Harry had to wait a little longer. He decided, it was too early to give up. All night, he had thought up scenarios and ways to proof his innocence. In that envelope, he was sure, he’d find the court date, and then he could prepare his defense._

Just a little longer, Harry. Moony.

_But when he opened the letter, there was no court date there. The only date on the official looking document was already four days in the past. It was a short letter, followed by a long list of his supposed crimes._

By the power vested in me by the Ministry of Magic under Minister Millicent Bagnold, and the British community of witches and wizards, I, Bartemius Crouch Sr., Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, hereby sentence the accused Sirius Orion Black (born 3 November 1959 in London) to imprisonment in the Wizarding Prison of Azkaban until the time of his death. In the case presented to me, there can be no doubt as to the guilt of Mr. Black regarding the crimes he is accused of (see attachment 1). The decision shall take legal effect seven days after delivery to the person or persons to whom it may concern, but at the latest moment one month after publication. Complaints regarding the decision shall be made in writing to the appropriate authority. Time that Mr. Black has already spent in Azkaban shall be subtracted from his sentence according to §§ 13, 241 Wizarding Criminal Code. This decision was issued in accordance with Art. 17 of Protocol 80/12 to the Wizarding Criminal Code regarding accelerated procedure.

Signed,

Bartemius Crouch Sr.

Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement

_Sirius’ hands were shaking as he read the decision a second and a third time. That couldn’t be right. That wasn’t right! He was innocent._

_“Until the time of his death,” he had read the words so often now, he barely even noticed that he was speaking them out loud. His voice was quiet, shaking, his throat still aching from the screaming during the night. “Until the time of his death.”_

_Dread pooled in his stomach. Crouch… had he even looked at the supposed evidence against him? What evidence was there? Witness testimony of the muggles, before Peter had blown them up? Moony…? Had Moony testified against him, saying he was the secret keeper? Alastor had mentioned even Dumbledore… Had his fellow order members testified against him?_

_But they knew him!_

_Tears were running down his cheeks. He’d thought, he’d cried them all after Lily and James’ death, but apparently, he’d been wrong. Harry… Harry couldn’t wait that long, he thought hiccupping. Not until… until… His eyes searched the line on the paper. Until the time of his death._

_No… No! Complaints. They had mentioned something about complaints. He still had a week. Seven days upon delivery. So, a week from now on. He turned the letter around, even looked through the attachment that contained a lengthy list of his crimes – things he wouldn’t do if his life depended on it. Nowhere did it say, what the ‘appropriate authorities’ were. Still, he had to try. If necessary, he would write to every single department of the ministry, until he got the right one._

_For that, he had to stay calm and collected. Frantically he wiped the tears from his face and stumbled towards the bars. Rattling against iron, yelling into the corridor, he demanded to be heard. He asked for paper, ink and quill, he asked to send a letter. He yelled into the corridor that it regarded his sentencing, that he needed to write his complaints._

_Nobody listened. Nobody heard._

_Just like nobody had listened all those weeks before._

_The only answer he got was the screams of his fellow inmates, and the dreadful inhaling sounds of the dementors._

_“Please!” He begged, even as the dementors were so close that a layer of frost grew over the iron bars. “Please…” His voice was weak. “Harry…”_

_For a moment, he saw Harry, that bubbling little toddler staring up at him with wide green eyes, raising his arms asking to be lifted into the air. Then the color of the eyes shifted to hazel, the face matured, and he saw James, dead before him, lying discarded over the stairs in his own home. Lily dead in the nursery. Peter…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uiuiuiuiuiui  
> When I wrote this flashback I was so damn proud of it. I feel so bad for Sirius. Honestly the idea of a corrupt and unjust justice system like this is simply frightening. He's completely and utterly powerless against it. Sirius never got a trial, so I often wondered how the decision to sentence him to life in prison came upon. Did they push him in front of Crouch and he just decided right there? Or was there a time in between his incarceration and when the decision was made. I decided to go with the second option. The idea to just have his fate delivered to him in a letter was absolutely horrifying to me. I imagine that Sirius for a long time after his incarceration must have thought that it was a mistake. He's a member of the order after all - I even decided to make him an aspiring auror trainee, just for the extra oompf - and nobody even bothered to give him a trial... It's utterly heart breaking. the abandonment!  
> For the record I like Moody. (And Sirius likes moody too) I thought long and hard wich character to use here. I wanted this to be a character he knew. This is something that is never adressed in canon. But we know for a fact that there were quite a few aurors in the order, powerful men like Dumbledore, other employee's of the ministry. In the books it's always just Crouch who passed the sentence and nobody else did anything wrong. At that point in time, however, Moody was a high ranking auror known for catching all kinds of death eaters. Dumbledore sat in the Wizengamot and even got a deal brokered for actual known death eaters like Snape. It just doesn't sit right with me, to just blame a bunch of already unlikeable characters like Crouch or Peter, or some other death eaters or OC's (that I can make as hateful as I please) for what happened with Sirius. One of the most horrific aspectss of Sirius' fate is the abandonment of his own friends. People he fought in a war with, people that we know he'd take a bullet for if necessary (or an Avada Kedavra). So I wanted to use one of these fomer comrades and friends.


	12. XII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost forgot to post today. So, it's now quite late, but still sunday. So I'm technically stll on time.  
> Thank you so much to all of you for the great feedback regarding next chapter. That made me very happy. I was exctremely proud of the flashback, and I'm glad to see, you liked it too. I still just feel so bad for Sirius.  
> However, this chapter, we'll focus a little bit on Kakashi.  
> I hope you like it.

It seemed wherever he was, cemeteries had an odd alure for him. When Kakashi finally calmed down enough to take note of his surroundings, he found himself in a park area with some trees, tall grass and big square stones jutting out of the ground to mark graves and memorials. His head was aching, and he didn’t know if it was the constant noise, the stench or the short panic that had triggered this headache. One moment he had been with Sirius on the bridge, then the whole structure below him had started rattling, and then…

He balled his fist. Almost. He had almost lost control. He had almost killed that person on the street. The Chidori was formed so quickly. Had he caught himself just a moment later, he would’ve smashed through the car’s hood. He didn’t know how study cars were, maybe the material would’ve stopped his advance, but he couldn’t rely on that.

_Kakashi!!_

He closed his eyes, shaking his head to ban the memory from his mind. As he opened them, his hands were red with blood.

Rin’s blood…

_KAKASHI!_

He jumped, as he heard her voice clear in his head. Turning around his axis, however, he was alone. Surrounded by gravestones, old trees, and poorly kept flower beds.

Was she here? Rin wasn’t buried here, he knew. But could she see him anyway. Maybe the realm of the dead was connected, maybe… He turned around himself once more. Did she watch him?

“Rin?”

Trees, grass, stones, wildflowers twisted around him, like a morbid carousel.

_Kakashi!_

He could hear her so clearly. His hands were red from her blood. He rubbed with his fingers against his skin, dug his nails in and scratched until it hurt, but it wouldn’t wash off!

“RIN?”

A shiver ran down his spine.

There she was. Turning around, she was right behind him. Blood down her chin. Eyes wide open.

_Kakashi!_

Rin! He moved to catch her as she fell, but his hands only caught empty air. He overbalanced, fell on his knees. She was gone. “RIN!” Looking around, he was alone. But he could still hear her in his head. The way she whispered his name, spoke his name, screamed his name: _KAKASHI!_

“Where are you?” He couldn’t see her! “I’m sorry, Rin.” _I’m sorry…_ He dug his bloody, dirty hands into the dry earth. The hands of a killer. And he had almost killed again.

That was what he was! He brought nothing but destruction into this world! His hands were shaking in the dirt.

Eventually, his rapid breath settled down. His blood stopped rushing in his veins. As he looked around himself, he couldn’t find Rin, nor hear any voices. He seemed to be alone, but he was certain he had heard her voice. Clear as day. As if she was right next to him. But next to him, there was nothing now, nobody but an empty graveyard, old trees, gravestones sticking out of the ground.

As he dug his hands out of the earth, the blood was gone, but mud stuck to his fingers and under his nails. He wiped them off against his trousers. Then bracing himself against a tree, he pushed himself on shaky legs.

Sirius… He had lost Sirius, he realized. Searching the cemetery with his eyes, he found no black dog. He must have left Sirius on that bridge. He had panicked, left his comrade.

_Not the first time you did that…_

He had to find Sirius. But he had no idea where he was, how far he had run from the bridge? Was Sirius even still there? He walked through the cemetery, as if he hoped to find the black dog between the gravestones, but he was the only person here.

On still wobbly legs and with slightly shaking hands he reached the center of the graveyard. There was a round plaza, with a big stone cross right in the center. Kakashi stood in front of it, staring at the formerly white stone. Like the crosses they had in front of their churches… He touched the cold stone, but although just earlier he had thought that maybe Rin was here, maybe this graveyard would serve as a place to speak to his comrades… Now that he touched his flat hand against this stone cross, he felt no connection. A foreign cemetery on a foreign world. The souls of his loved ones seemed far away now.

He felt disappointed at that. Glowering at the cross one last time, he turned away, making his way back to where he had come from. He had to find Sirius.

****** 

Sirius was a coward! He had been halfway back to the bridge, when he had turned around, fleeing again. Aurors! Aurors and _dementors_! Why would they send dementors to London?

He had been prepared to sneak past the obliviators of the ministry, even the aurors if they’d send them to investigate. If Kakashi had apparated, there was little he could do to trace where he had gone, but it was still the best place for Sirius to start searching. And then, he had felt the dementor. It couldn’t be more than one, and it was still so far away that all Sirius felt was a shiver down his spine and the distant memory of a bloody street. But it was still enough to scare him away.

When hours later he finally had the courage to try again, it was too late. Back on the bridge, he couldn’t find Kakashi. So much time had passed, that in the constant coming and going of people and traffic, even Kakashi’s scent was lost to him. He ran the bridge up and down, followed every street leading away from it, turned back to the bridge, ran across multiple times, until he knew every brick and every dent in the balustrade. No Kakashi.

Was he even still in London? Or had he maybe apparated back home or to a different country? If Sirius only had his wand! He could use a tracking spell. But he had no wand.

***** 

Retracing his steps had been difficult for Kakashi. He couldn’t remember quite which turns he had taken, and it was difficult to find his own scent in this area packed with millions of people. Still, he slowly made progress. Until…

“This way!” a gruff voice commanded. Suddenly, there was a blinding light, right in Kakashi’s face. Shocked he took a step back. He shielded his eyes, blinked against the light, but it had already dimmed until it didn’t blind him anymore.

A beam of yellow light came around the corner made an odd U-turn pointing right against his chest. It looked almost solid, as if it wasn’t light at all but a thin string made of some fluorescent material. Kakashi grabbed for it, but his hand passed right through. Light… Nothing solid, no matter how much it looked like it.

Was it dangerous?

“They say he looked like a teenager, but we didn’t pick up anything at the ministry.” Another voice. It sounded like just around the corner. This time it was a woman speaking.

Kakashi heard a step not far from him, brushing clothes. He made a split-second decision, retreating to the roof of the building he stood in front of. It was just high enough, that he could listen without being seen.

“If there’s no trace it’s not a kid, even if they said he looked like one. Might be an older—” The voice broke off suddenly. “Did you see that?”

“Yes. Did he apparate again?” the woman asked. Peering down Kakashi saw both right below him on the street, looking straight up at him.

Where they looking for him? How did they…? Only now he noticed that the odd light was still pointing at his chest. The yellow string of light, thin as a wire led down the length of the building and ended at the tip of a thin wooden stick the man was holding in his hand. Magic, he realized just as they vanished in front of his eyes.

He didn’t think. Instinctively he jumped to the roof just across the street just as he heard a loud _plop_ behind him. That was the teleportation Sirius had spoken about.

And still, the beam of light followed him everywhere he went. A tracking technique. Why they were looking for him, he didn’t know. Did they figure out that he knew where to find Sirius Black. In that case, he couldn’t let them catch him! Who knew what methods they had to get to his brain? A different thought occurred to him: Maybe he could lead them away.

He watched as they appeared on the roof. The man stumbled a little. Then they looked around themselves, before noticing that Kakashi wasn’t on the roof anymore.

“Over there!” the woman pointed across the street to Kakashi’s roof, following the string of light with her eyes. “He’s quick, but that’s him. Fits the description.”

Kakashi turned to run again. By the time they teleported to the second roof, he was already down on the street looking up at them. Curiously, he noticed, that none of the people surrounding him payed him any attention. Neither did they seem to notice the yellow string of light essentially coming from the sky down to point at his chest. The people of London simply followed their daily business as usual. Either they were used to these things happening around them, or they were in a sort of genjutsu to keep them oblivious to anything unusual.

Kakashi looked back up to the roof, just to see the man peer over the edge and point at him. They weren’t particularly fast, Kakashi thought. If they kept this leisurely pace, all their magical teleporting wouldn’t help them, and he would be able to evade them for hours.

Just at that moment an elderly woman opened the door to her apartment complex, to lead her dog out, Kakashi quickly rushed past her into the building. He broke into an apartment, making sure it was empty, then took up position at a window. Hiding behind the curtains, he peered down onto the street.

Indeed, as the witch and wizard plopped right in the middle of the street, nobody seemed to bat an eye at it. It was as if they weren’t even seen by the people around them. Muggles, Sirius had called them. People who couldn’t use magic.

It was the first time, Kakashi could get a clear look at the couple hunting him. The man was thin, tall, with a bushy mustache. He looked to be in his early thirties. Long dark blue robes fell loosely around his body all the way down to his ankles. A pair of polished black pointy shoes peaked out from under the cloth. The woman wore shoes with small heels, just about an inch high. With that added height, she was almost as tall as her colleague, wearing a pin-striped skirt suit. She had a face a bit like a hawk. The look in her eyes said that there were a thousand places she’d rather be then sweating in the August sun, while hunting down an unknown person. She too had one of these thin wooden sticks in her hand, though there was no light coming from it.

Looking at his chest, Kakashi followed the string of light out of the door and then vanish in the corridor. It didn’t go through the wall in a straight line, as if the closed window stopped it. Instead it led out of the apartment down the stairs, and through the window he could see it leave the building through the front door into the tip of the man’s wooden stick. They nudged each other to move quickly, then they ran up the three steps leading to the front door. Kakashi heard loud banging as the front door was pushed open.

Before they had always apparated right to him. Now, curiously, they decided to walk. Kakashi left his position at the window, sneaking out of the room to peak his head out of the apartment. He could hear their voices from the stairwell.

“Damn, he’s fast. But what’s he doing. That’s not a normal apparition,” that was the woman’s voice.

“It leaves no magical trace at all. And it’s completely quiet. Never saw anything like it.” The man answered. “You think it has anything to do with Black?”

The woman huffed. “Doubt it, but Shacklebolt’s right. It’s suspicious. A kid with no trace appearing in the middle of the street using some unknown spell to escape. That’s fishy.”

“You think it might be Dark Magic?” The man seemed skeptical.

“It’s obviously somebody using Polyjuice. And Dark Magic, that would at least explain why we didn’t get the typical ripple effects that would normally linger after an apparation.” The woman answered, though she didn’t sound convinced. “Wish they wouldn’t have called the dementor, but you never know, right? We don’t know how Black escaped from Azkaban but might be the same method this guy is using.”

Their steps were heavy on the stairs. They moved reasonably quickly, closing in on Kakashi fast.

“We sneak up on him this time. If we can’t see him, he can’t see us coming either.”

Kakashi almost snorted at that. He had heard enough for now. It seemed like they had to see where he was, to use this teleportation technique to get to him. This tracking magic might be convenient, but it didn’t give them a marker on where to teleport. That was useful information, he thought. Closing the door silently, he retreated into the apartment, then opened a window and quickly climbed out.

By the time they had entered his apartment he was already running across the roof on the other side of the street. He quickly created distance between them, but then he waited, giving them time to catch up. He could lead them away from Black. Away from the bridge, where he had last seen Black.

*****

“This guy!” There was clear frustration in the man’s voice. “He’s just playing with us!”

An hour had passed now. Kakashi was actually very close to them, hiding just around the corner, his eyes and ears on them. Knowing that their tracking technique only told him the path to him, instead of telling them exactly where he was, made it easy to hide from them. As long as he made sure that they couldn’t see him, they would know which way he was, but not how far away from them.

“Yes, he is. That’s not a child. We need reinforcements.” The woman sounded frustrated and tired.

“No point really.” The man disagreed. By the time we set up a parameter and create an anti-disapparating ban around him, he might have already left completely. We don’t even know if that would work against him.” He raised his stick a little, just as Kakashi changed positions again.

“There… He moved again. I’m getting tired of it. Why is he even still in the area? If he just apparated a mile away, I’d lose him. But no, he makes sure to stay close.”

Apparating, was their form of teleportation, Kakashi knew. Learning, that the tracking spell had a maximum range was good to know.

“I’m telling you,” the woman got louder with anger. “He’s playing with us. Giving us a run-around.”

“It makes no sense… Why risk it, if its Black? What’s he doing here anyway. I thought he was trying to get to Potter.”

“Maybe it’s not him, after all…”

The man grumbled something under his breath. Then he stopped in his tracks. “This is pointless.” With a flick of his wooden stick, the light that connected his stick with Kakashi’s chest suddenly disappeared. Kakashi quickly made sure, that it hadn’t left any traces on his clothes or chest. He lifted the shirt up but saw only smooth pale skin.

“So, what do we do? Go back, view our memories and look if we can draw up a composite sketch,” the woman suggested.

“Might as well, though I have no idea if that will get us anywhere. Looks like a kid, but no trace… Seems to be Polyjuice, so chances are, the composite sketch won’t get us anywhere.” He gave a halfhearted shrug. “If it’s not Black, doubt anybody from the aurors’ office will care anyway. They got their hands full, else they wouldn’t ask us to do this. I’m paid too little to run around all of London looking for some idiot who thinks it’s fun to apparate in front of muggles.”

He turned away. The long robes he was wearing flying around him with the abrupt movement. Kakashi snuck a little closer, to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. Then he almost flinched as a sudden crack in the air marked their departure. So far, he had always been a bit away, whenever they apparated. Up close… This magic was _loud_. How did none of the muggles surrounding the area react to that?

He quickly ran up to the spot where they had just disappeared from. “Did you see that?” he asked a random person that he grabbed by their arm. It was a teenage boy about his own age.

The kid jumped in surprise. “Jesus, where did you come from?” He stared white-eyed at Kakashi. “Just scared the bejesus out of me.”

“Did you see that?” Kakashi repeated his question, pointing to where the witch and wizard had disappeared from the street.

The boy stared blankly in the direction Kakashi was pointing at. “See what, mate?”

How could he not have seen it? The boy pulled free from Kakashi’s hold and continued his path, shaking his head as if Kakashi wasn’t making any sense. Kakashi realized that no matter how loud the teleportation was, no matter the fact that two people had just disappeared from the middle of the road… These _muggles_ hadn’t seen anything. Then why had Kakashi?

****** 

This time it took Kakashi even longer to find his way back to the bridge. He’d led the wizards, half-way across London on a constant zigzag course. He hadn’t even considered, that finding his way back might be difficult. Normally, his senses were aware enough that he could easily follow his path back to where he had come from. However, this city stank, and was loud and now that the day ended, it looked completely different. It didn’t really get dark, instead there was light everywhere, bright neon signs, lights in windows, traffic lights… From a huge arena there were searchlights directed toward the sky shining light on the clouds there. It looked completely different.

He couldn’t even trust his nose. Often, Kakashi would follow familiar scents only to be disappointed when it was just another restaurant selling the same food as another restaurant that he had passed on his wild goose chase around London.

By the time Kakashi finally reached the bridge again – and he was sure it was the same bridge, even though it looked different by night – it was already long past midnight. The whole area smelled of Sirius’ dog-form. Like the dog had ran all around the area, wedged his fur against every bit of wall, rolled himself over the street. His scent was everywhere, so much so it was difficult to say which direction he had gone to.

Kakashi followed a trail for two minutes, until it suddenly ended at a big crossing. He followed another trail, followed it almost all the way back to the cemetery, but then lost it again. Shaking his head, he returned to the bridge. The freshest scents were already hours old. Sirius had likely found some hidden place to stay the night, after he had failed to find Kakashi close to the bridge.

He climbed one of the taller buildings, tried to get a view over the area of the city surrounding the bridge. Maybe he could find an area where Sirius might feel safe to hide. But there were thousand such places just in the immediate vicinity. Small places between trashcans, abandoned alley ways, bridges, small parks, half open gateways, public buildings, the train tracks, the cemeteries, two churches and a few parking lots. And that was only what he could see at first glance. Who said that Sirius hadn’t found a way into one of the buildings, or even left the area entirely?

Finding a stray dog here, Kakashi realized as his eyes zeroed in on one of those animals, only to be disappointed as the fur turned out a dark brown and the dog much smaller than Sirius… it was like finding a needle in a haystack. He could waste days here and still not find Sirius. No reason to panic, Kakashi thought. After all, he might not know where Sirius was, but he knew where he was headed:

Harry Potter. Sirius had named the town his godson supposedly lived in again and again. Harry Potter, in Surrey.

Finding a boy who would have no reason to hide, he decided, would be much easier than finding a fugitive convict hiding from law enforcement, or a stray dog in a city of five million people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you like it? Kakashi had his first run in with the ministry, and now, he's looking for one Harry Potter. He'll be pretty disappointed i fear, once he finds out, that Surrey is not quite a town but a county with several towns and vilages...
> 
> I mentioned it a few times already, but last chapter was basically the moment everything fell apart a little for those two. 'Fell apart' in the sense that Kakashi and Sirius now walk different paths. The first ten chapters were all about Kakashi and Sirius getting to know each other. Now, they have lost each other. Kakashi might be able with his tracking skills, to sniff out Sirius in this city eventually. But he knows it might take him days. He also (just like Sirius) isn't 100% certain the other's even still in the area. Looking for him at Harry's place is therefore the best method. I was thinking a while about how they would loose each other, because I always intended for them to go seperate ways in London. First I thought that Sirius would just leave Kakashi at a police station and then leave, but then I realized that Kakashi would find him pretty quickly, after that. So I thought it would be more believable, if Kakashi was the one who left and sirius looked for him, because unlike Kakashi, sirius (despite being a dog) is not that good of a tracker. As for Kakashi, loosing as much time as he did first with the panic attack, then tryng to find his way back, then the goose chase and then again trying to find his way... He takes so long to get back to the bridge, that Sirius trail is basically lost to him.
> 
> Kakashi now had his first brush with a dementor. To him it felt a little bit like a PTSD attack the way he's already used to them. the dementor also didn't get very close nor did it specifcally attack Kakashi. So, Kakashi is very sensitive to these beasts, although part of it is also, that they just trigger his old fears. 
> 
> The next part of he story will actualy focus a lot on Kakashi, his search for Harry and after. I even consider bringing in Harry as a second perspective for the Kakashi-part of the story. I just think one of the most entertaining parts for me is to write how the wizards think about Kakashi. So, for as long as he's seperated from Sirius, Harry will play that part.
> 
> Also, I thought alot about how kakashi can see magic, especially when muggles often ignore it. This is a bit of a meta-explanation, but since it will take forever for Kakashi to figure all of this out: Here's a short explanation:  
> In my eyes, it seems like there are three ways to hide something from muggles:  
> The first and most common aspect seems to be that 'muggles just don't pay attention'. This is actually said multiple times in the books. About the Knight Bus or I think even when Grimauldplace 12 appears and pushes all the neighboring houses aside. It also seems to be the reason, why most of the time, muggles simply don't notice goblins or other magical beings around them as anything extraordinary. So there seems to be just a componen to magic, that makes muggles prone to just ignore it, unless it's in their face and affects them personally, or is super flashy. I decided since Kakashi has trained his senses to super awareness, beyond even wizards, this doesn't affect Kakashi or doesn't affect him that much. Kakashi is very atune to his surroundings, so when something just vanishes next to him or when there's a flash of light indicating a spell, he will notice it, unless the wizards go to extra effort to conceal the magic.
> 
> 2\. Secondly and most common for places there are 'bans', that can hide things from side (like the Fidelius Charm) or make things look different (like Hogwarts looking like a ruin to muggles). These things affect Kakashi as they do affect other muggles. 
> 
> 3\. wizards can use spells to make specific muggles ignorant to what happens around them. So instead of hiding something from everybody, these spells just affects individual people that are targeted by it. So this would be similar to a genjutsu for Kakashi.
> 
> If and how Kakashi can deal with methods according to 2 and 3 I will get into in the future. for now, just know that whenever he can see something easily that other muggles ignore, it's cause he has better senses than them.


	13. XIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel generous today, so here's another chapter :D  
> I think this is the longest chapter yet! I don't even know why I didn't split it... but I guess I wanted t get this all over with.
> 
> Also as a quick heads-up. We're now entering book-territory. Although Kakashi being there will change things, much will also go very similar or unchanged to canon. I decided against marking direct or verbatim quotes from the books, but especially in the dialogue, you'll recognize quite a bit from the Prisoner of Azkaban. I try to give my own spin on it, adding Kakashi's perspective. But tell me if it's becomes too much of a book-retelling. I expect (or at least hope) that the more time passes, the more we'll leave the actual book plot not just wth Kakashi, but also with Harry and Co. Though key-elements will remain.

This time, luck was on Kakashi’s side. He had no idea where Surrey was, but he decided that orientating himself via street signs had led to success before. In London, the signs were a mess, so he quickly left London towards the southwest. It was just a wild guess. He had entered London from the northeast and hadn’t seen a place called Surrey on that side of London. Therefore, going southwest seemed reasonable.

He had barely even left the city when his stars finally aligned. Surrey was on none of the street signs, and he was already a little disappointed, when there, just to his left a huge car pulled out on the motorway. It was a big rectangular vehicle as high as two men standing on each other’s shoulders. It looked old and made more noise than any of the other cars around it. Bright red paint and a big advertisement on the sides made it stand out. A bus. He had seen these vehicles before in Cromer and again in Aylsham. They were meant to drive around passengers, and conveniently for him, they often had their destination displayed in bright letters above their front window. Convenient for Kakashi, because this bus in particular read ‘Sutton, Surrey’.

Following the bus, he reached Surrey in no time. It wasn’t so much a town, but rather an area just to the south of London. That was a little discouraging. Kakashi had hoped for a small town like Cromer with only a few thousand people. Instead, there were dozens of towns and small villages and Potter could be in every one of these. For a moment, he considered that he had miscalculated. He didn’t know where Potter lived, he didn’t know how he looked nor did he know his scent. All he knew, was that he lived somewhere in this area, a wizard living with a family of muggles.

In a town called Leatherhead in Mole Valley, Surrey he stopped following the Bus to Sutton. This place, he thought was as good a place as any to start. It was early morning, and the first people were already on the street.

“I’m looking for a boy called Potter, Harry Potter,” he asked a girl his age in a garden across a big schoolyard. After getting no satisfactory answer, he had decided asking people his own age, might promise more success. If Potter lived in the area, there was a chance, this girl might have gone to school with him. She needn’t know much about him, but the name would maybe ring familiar.

“Never heard of him,” the girl said, walking all the way up to the fence. “How old?”

Kakashi gave a short shrug. Sirius had been rather vague with his age. “Thirteen, fourteen? Around our age.”

The girl frowned a little. Her nose crunched with the grimace. “You don’t know? What do you want with him?”

Kakashi didn’t have an answer for the question. Next time, he should prepare a better story. In any case, the girl had already answered his question anyway, so he quickly left her (“Hey! Where are you going?” she yelled after him.) and her neighborhood and asked in a different part of town.

An hour later an eighteen-year-old boy suggested he could look in the phone book and even pointed him to a phone booth. Kakashi quickly leaved through the pages. There were eight Potters, he saw. Interestingly, their addresses weren’t just listed at Leatherhead, but in the surrounding areas as well. The phonebook was apparently for the entire Surrey area. That would make things a lot easier for him.

Happily, he started dialing the first number. Thankfully, the phonebooth gave clear instructions on how to use it, and he still had a little cash left.

A woman picked up, reading a number to him that he only realized after four digits was her own phone number.

“Hello, I’m looking for a boy called Harry Potter?”

“I’m sorry. This is Augustine Potter on Bridge Street. There’s nobody called Harry here.” Her voice had the distinct throatiness of a chain smoker.

“Okay. Thank you for your help. I’m sorry for the disturbance.”

“No worries, no worries.”

Kakashi hung up and tried the next number.

Eight phone calls and all his coin cash later his excitement had deflated considerably. He had called all eight Potters in the area, but nobody knew a boy called Harry. However, one of them had reacted rather annoyed, that he was sick and tired of having kids call him every summer holidays, just because this Harry-kid couldn’t give out his number correctly. So, obviously, Kakashi wasn’t the only one who had tried and failed to reach Potter this way.

According to the census in the back of the phonebook there were roughly 10 000 people living in Leatherhead and two hours later he was reasonably certain, that Harry Potter wasn’t among them. He left the town and followed the signs to a town called Redhill. On his way he made sure to ask at least one person in every village he passed by.

Redhill was double the size of Leatherhead, so therefore he took twice a as long to decide that Harry Potter didn’t live here either. By the time he reached a town called Horley, the sun was already starting to set.

“Do you know a kid called Harry Potter?” He called out to three other boys on a playground. They were kicking a shiny leather boy from one to the other. “I found this, and it says his name, there…” he pulled out his med kit. A quick genjutsu and as the boy looked up at him, he could read ‘Belongs to Harry Potter’ written with black marker across it.

“What is it?” one of the boys asked, kicking the ball to one of his friends, before running up to Kakashi. Kakashi opened it, quickly revealing a few bandages. “A first aid kit, I think. A woman said a boy forgot it at her bakery, but she couldn’t describe him.”

The other kid gave an uninterested shrug. “Why bother. Just keep it or throw it away. Looks rather worthless anyway.” He pointed at where Kakashi had repaired it after a shuriken had hit it during a mission half a year ago. “Already all stitched up. He can just buy a new one.”

Kakashi frowned. He felt almost insulted the way the boy dismissed his med pack like that, as if it held no value. “Well, maybe it has personal value, if he bothered to repair it,” he suggested, quickly shoving the pack back into his pouch before the boy could continue to insult it. “Well, do you know him?”

“Harry Potter?” He shook his head. “Never heard of him. And I know almost all the boys here in town. Don’t know you though.” His eyes narrowed suspiciously at Kakashi.

“I’m just here for the vacation,” Kakashi quickly said. “I’m from Japan.”

“Ah, that’s where the accent’s from. Sounds about right. What are you doing in Horley of all places?”

Kakashi was unhappy with how the conversation turned away from his search for Harry Potter. “I was in London earlier. It’s just a daytrip. So, you don’t know him?”

The boy laughed. “Yeah, can’t imagine why you’d leave London for this backwater town.” He shook his head. “No. I know there’s a Potter over in Lingfield. Martin Potter…” He waved towards the west, as if that was were Lingfield was. Kakashi had read the street signs and was certain Lingfield was in the east. “Don’t know a Harry, but maybe it’s a relative.”

“It’s not,” Kakashi said dejectedly. Martin Potter was the guy who’d been so annoyed over the phone. “I already called him.”

“You called old Martin?” The boy snickered. His freckles danced across his cheeks as he laughed. “How was it? He’s pretty nasty, isn’t he?” Kakashi didn’t disagree. “Anyway, you’re taking this way too seriously. That what they do over in Japan? Come on, just throw it away. Or keep it if you think it’s of value. You asked around, even called old Martin. Nobody can expect more than that.”

Kakashi made a face. “I thought it would be cool,” he said, trying to mimic some of the language he had heard all day from other kids his age. “Like I could make a friend.”

The boy frowned at him. Then he turned around. “Hey, Carl! Ted!” he yelled out to his friends. “Know a kid called Harry Potter? He’s supposed to live somewhere around here.”

Kakashi looked over to the other two boys who were still kicking the ball. One of them, a tall lanky boy with curly black hair, dug the tip of his food below the ball, kicked it up and then caught it with his own hands. “No idea. Never heard of him, why?” he said, throwing his ball from one hand to the other.

“He lost some first aid kit or something like that,” the freckled boy yelled back, pointing at Kakashi. “He wants to give it back.”

The lanky boy gave a shrug. The other kid, much shorter but with strong arms, waved for him to kick, then he suddenly stopped. “Harry Potter?” he asked, turning to Kakashi. “I think I know that name.”

“You know him?” Kakashi quickly ran up to him. “I’ve been looking all day, but nobody knows him.”

“As I said, man, you’re taking it too seriously,” the freckled boy said running after him. “Damn you’re fast.”

“Not sure,” the short boy said. “I think there was a boy with that name in my elementary school. Just a year below me. Over in Little Whinging.”

Kakashi had never heard of that place. “Little Whinging? Where is that?”

“Halfway between here and Guildford. You can’t miss it. Most boring place you’ve ever been to I promise.” He laughed.

Kakashi had no idea what to imagine with that description. “You know anything else about Potter?”

The other boy shook his head. “Nah. I’m not even sure, he still lives there.”

Kakashi thanked him and quickly looked for the way to Guildford. He quickly ran along next to the main road. Half-way, the boy had said. Guildford was about 25 miles away. After roughly half of that, he came upon a town called Dorking and there… A sign pointing north told him he was about five miles outside Little Whinging.

******* 

It was already getting late, as he entered the small town. Kakashi hadn’t known how to picture the most boring town ever, but now that he was here, he decided the description was fitting. Little Whinging were rows upon rows of single houses with picked fences, with neat little gardens of the greenest grass. It was smashed smack between the motorway on one side and a small river on the other. The most striking landmarks were the church (that was one of the least impressive churches he had seen in the last days) and a big company called ‘Grunnings’. (“Grunnings,” he whispered to himself trying to make it sound appealing.)

Grunnings seemed like a good place to start his search. So just when all the workers from the company left the grounds, he jogged up to a young lady in high heels and a skirt suit and asked the same question he was already sick of asking:

“Excuse me? Do you know somebody called Harry Potter?”

The woman looked at him with an expression as if he had said something scandalizing. Her nose crunched up a little. Her eyes roamed his face, then she quickly pressed her suitcase closer to her body and marched on with hurried steps. Kakashi looked after her in confusion.

He was about to follow her to ask again, when instinct made him dodge a man who suddenly grabbed for him. “Hey boy!” The man yelled out in an angry voice. “What are you doing here? Trying to steal, are you?” Kakashi glared at him. “It’s all the same with you people!”

“You people?” Kakashi asked because he had no idea what he was referring to.

The man didn’t answer. “Where are you from, huh? China?” He made to grab for Kakashi again, but Kakashi quickly evaded. “Some good for nothing are you? Get lost, boy!”

Kakashi was utterly confused. “I’m not sure what you’re—” he started to say, but at that point another woman joined their conversation.

“Henry, leave the kid alone.” Her long fingers clamped around the man’s arm pushing it away. She was much shorter than him, but he seemed to follow her command anyway. Glaring at her he pulled his arm back. Then he muttered something about “thieving pack” and turned away.

“Racist asshole,” she whispered after him. “Sorry about that,” the woman then bowed down a little toward Kakashi to be eyelevel with him. “You’re not from here, are you?” She pointed at her own face. “Mixed race, hm? I bet the mask didn’t help either. Why are you wearing it?”

Kakashi had no answer for that. Maybe he should stop wearing his mask, he thought. In this world it made him stand out, rather than help him hide. He had already noticed that.

“Is it some new fashion? I see more and more of your people walking around London with masks. You’re a tourist, I guess?” Again, he had no idea, what he meant with ‘your people’. Still, he nodded. It wasn’t the first time, he used the tourist-excuse, after all. “So, what did you want to know?”

She pushed up her glasses, as she waited for him to answer.

“I’m looking for somebody. His name is Harry Potter. He lives somewhere around here?”

Her face seemed confused at first, then her brows moved towards her hairline in a show of surprise. “Potter? I think I know that name. That’s Mr. Dursley’s nephew, isn’t it?” She looked to the company. “He’s the director and my boss. I guess that’s why you came here, hm?” She shook her head. “What do you want from him? I hear quite bad things about him.”

“I just wanted to return something to him, that he lost,” he said not bothering to show her the med kit, because he wanted her to give him more information and distracting her with a fake lost-and-found item wouldn’t help. “What bad things?”

“Ah, that’s not for young ears…” she started, but then she continued anyway, her tone turning confidential as if she was revealing secrets. “Mr. Dursley certainly tries his best with the boy, but a hopeless case from what I hear. They had to send him to St. Brutus’s.” She said it as if he had to know what that was.

“St. Brutus’s?” he asked, having trouble with pronouncing the double s-sound.

“Oh dear, of course you wouldn’t know.” She clapped her hands together. “St. Brutus’s Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys.” She shook her head. “Poor boy, there seems to be something wrong with him.” She pointed at her head. “Up here I man. But it can’t be helped. Mr. Dursley hopes some discipline might help him. But you never know, right? If the nature is already rotten from the start…” She let the sentence hang in the air unfinished. “He’s been making trouble ever since he was a small boy, I heard.”

Kakashi had quite enough of her. The way she spoke to him, the way she had even defended him earlier, she seemed to be nice enough, but now her words were all rubbing him the wrong way. She was a gossip. Clearly, she believed just everything this Dursley-person was telling her. If Harry Potter was in fact a wizard, he probably went to Hogwarts. Kakashi already knew that much about the wizarding world. With the Statute of Secrecy in effect, the Dursley’s probably tried to hide that by making up some insane story about Potter being in this St. Brutus’s facility. This woman ate all these scandalous stories up and apparently loved to share them with every stranger that happened to come by. At multiple times she expressed sympathy for her boss, but there was also a glint in her eyes that spoke of spiteful glee that her boss had these troubles with his nephew.

Kakashi decided not to believe anything she said. It probably wasn’t true, and he didn’t think she cared much about whether it was true or not herself, as long as she had a nice story to gossip about.

“Can you tell me where they live?” he asked, not interested in the rest of her story.

She seemed somewhat put-off by his lack of interest. With a huff, she straightened up to her full height. “If he’s home for the holidays… Privet Drive… I don’t know the number off the top of my head.”

Kakashi thanked her for her information, despite feeling already very annoyed of her.

“If you meet Mr. Dursley, don’t tell him I told you anything,” she called after him sounding a little worried. There was no reason to worry, of course. Kakashi had no intend to become friends with this Dursley and even if, he didn’t know her name anyway.

****** 

Kakashi didn’t know much about Harry Potter. A boy roughly his age. A wizard. An orphan who lived with his uncle, who was called Dursley on Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey. Most importantly, he didn’t know how the boy looked, which made searching for him difficult. Ultimately, he decided his best chance was to just walk down Privet Drive and read the names below the doorbells and mailboxes.

It was already dark, but the streetlights made his task easy. Still, it was a boring task. Privet Drive was the most boring street in the most boring town. Everything looked the same. If it weren’t for the changing numbers in front of the driveways, he would’ve been certain that he ran in circles checking the same three houses over and over, again. It was also a long street. He started checking number 121 on one end and had made all the way to 30, when he was distracted by noise.

Glad for the distraction he looked up.

“MARGE! Nooo!” It was a man’s voice. The yelling came from one of the gardens a bit further down the road. “Bring her back down! Maker he normal again!” Kakashi didn’t know who the command was intended for.

He heard a dog barking, but he was immediately certain that it wasn’t Sirius. This was a much smaller dog, his barking high pitched and painful for his ears. Still, curious what was happening, Kakashi jogged down the road. He peered over the neatly trimmed hedge into the garden of number 4.

There was nobody in the garden. Instead he could see through an open window and terrace door into the kitchen. A huge woman flew bloated to the size of one of Jiraiya-sama’s summoning toads just below the ceiling. The kitchen seemed cramped with her in the center bopping uselessly up and down as if she was entirely weightless. A fat man with bushy mustache hung on her ankles, trying to pull her back down to the ground. Then there was a haggard woman standing to the side, watching it all with pure horror in her eyes.

Kakashi didn’t know much about Harry Potter. But he knew he was a wizard… and this was clearly magic!

So where was the boy? There was teenager, about the right age, sitting on the other side of the room, not concerned with what was happening, watching TV. He was almost as fat as the man, and the family resemblance was very obvious. A second teenager stood right across the bloated lady in front of the kitchen isle. He had his fists balled at his sides. Unlike the other two males, he was thin, almost a little haggard. Wild black hair stood in all directions, reminding Kakashi a little of Obito. He was the right age as well.

That was him, Kakashi thought excitedly. No doubt. He had found him. Harry Potter.

Then Potter turned around, and Kakashi heard the door bang as he left the kitchen. There were more sounds from inside. Doors banging shut, the scraping noises of something heavy being dragged down a staircase.

“Come back here!” The fat man yelled after him. “Come here and fix her!” He finally let go of the bloated lady and hurried after the teenager out of the kitchen.

“She deserved it! She deserved what she got. And you stay away from me.”

The teenager and the fat man weren’t in the kitchen anymore, so Kakashi couldn’t see them. Then suddenly, he heard the front door open and he quickly hurried across the street to hide.

Kakashi watched Potter drag a big trunk out of the house. It fell heavily down the single step onto the pavement. Then he took an empty birdcage in the other hand, and a neat and shining broom under his arm. He grabbed for the trunk again to drag it all down the driveway and onto the street. He watched as Potter dragged his belongings across the street and past were Kakashi was hiding in the dark. He was panting, having trouble with the heavy trunk and the different unwieldy items. Every few steps his broom slipped a little further and he had to stop to adjust it under his arm. Carrying the broom, birdcage, and dragging the trunk after him created unshapely shadows whenever he passed a streetlight. Kakashi followed right after.

This was Potter, he was fairly sure. Yet, Sirius was nowhere in sight. He must have fallen behind. Was he still in London looking for Kakashi? Had Kakashi made a mistake leaving? He had assumed, that after not finding Kakashi Sirius would simply continue on his planned journey. Of course, Sirius moved much slower than Kakashi, but he wouldn’t have to search through all these small towns and villages the way Kakashi had. Maybe Kakashi was wrong and Sirius hadn’t even left London, yet. So, what was he supposed to do now?

He could stay here, wait and hope that Sirius would turn up within the next few days. He could go back to London and continue his search there. Or he could stay with Potter and rely on Sirius turning up where Potter was sooner or later. Even if Sirius wouldn’t seek out Potter after all, if Kakashi was right, Potter would go to Hogwarts. And Sirius was definitely headed there. It seemed like the safest option to stay with the boy.

Should he show himself then? He had learned a lot through just talking to Sirius. A lot more than he could’ve found out on his own. Harry Potter hadn’t spent the last decade in prison. It stood to reason that he could teach Kakashi even more about this world.

Something held him back, though. _How_ should he reveal himself to Potter? Having spent almost two weeks in this world now, he had realized that in this world he stood out like a sore thumb. Kakashi wasn’t shy, but he was a shinobi. Hiding and losing himself in the masses was something he could always use to his advantage. Not calling attention to himself would be better than standing out as an odd and strange character. So, the mask had to go. As did the bandages over his eye and even his grey hair seemed uncommon in this world. Showing his sharingan openly, however, would be a constant chakra drain. An illusion, he decided.

He had already tested it with Sirius, so he knew, that genjutsu worked against wizards. Without further hesitation he quickly transformed himself into a rather nondescript plain looking boy. No mask, no covered eye, no wild grey hair. Instead he turned into a tall boy his own age, with short brown hair, wearing jeans and a hoodie. It was a simple transformation and Kakashi was certain, that he could keep this up for days, short of being knocked unconscious. He just had to make sure, that Potter wouldn’t see him sleep.

The boy’s heart was racing. Kakashi could hear it all the way to where he was following a few paces behind him. He smelled of anger. Then, he kicked his suitcase, placed the birdcage on top and sat down on the sidewalk just around the corner of Privet Drive. Quickly, as he put his head in his hands, dragging his fingers through his wild hair, his anger vanished, and Kakashi was certain, what he now smelled was full-blown panic.

He seemed to mutter something under his breath, but it was impossible for Kakashi to understand. Then Potter pulled out a wooden stick, holding it tight. He seemed to finally come to a decision, as he opened his suitcase.

Audibly, Kakashi sighed, wanting to get the boy’s attention. He had apparently miscalculated. The panic wasn’t over and the sound of somebody close-by shocked Potter right back to his feet, standing stiff as a board his wand pointed into the dark. Embarrassed, because he didn’t want to surprise Potter like that, Kakashi scratched his head, stepping into the light.

“Uh, sorry—” he started.

“What—” retreating backwards, Potter tripped over his trunk and stumbled onto the street. He fell back, limbs flailing, his wand fell out of his hand and—

Kakashi didn’t see it coming. There was a loud _crack_ ripping through the atmosphere and just steps away from Potter a huge bus appeared, traveling towards the boy at a break-neck speed. It was fast! It was fast even for shinobi standards! And where the heck had it come from?

There was no time to contemplate. Lunging forward, all Kakashi could do was grab Potter’s shoulder and drag him out of the bus’s path. There was no time for anything else.

Tires screeching, a loud honking, and then the bus stopped right in front of them. With a squeaky sound the door slid open.

“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go.” A pimply faced young man in a well-worn purple uniform the same color as the bus stood lounging in the doorway in front of them. He read his words from a tiny card in his hand. “My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this evening." With lazy eyes he looked up at the two teenage boys for the first time then. “Blimey! You look as if you’ve seen a ghost!” He looked around as if looking for said ghost.

“Uh…” Kakashi’s words utterly failed him. He only realized that he was still holding Potter’s shoulder, when the boy took a step back. Kakashi let go of him.

Potter picked the birdcage up, that he had knocked over as he fell.

“So, where can I take you?” Stan asked after giving up on his search for the ghost.

Nobody answered him. Kakashi didn’t know where to go anyway. He wanted to follow Potter, so he would let Potter have the first word. Potter however seemed completely stunned still. Stan didn’t seem happy with the ongoing silence.

“Which one of you called us, hm?” He frowned a little. “You did call us, right?”

Finally, Potter seemed to catch himself. “You said this bus drives everywhere?”

Glad that Potter had finally answered the conductor nodded proudly. “Yap. Everywhere you want to go, as long as it’s on land. What’s your name?”

Potter hesitated. “Neville Longbottom.”

Kakashi was surprised at first. He had been certain that this had to be Potter. A fake name? But why?

“And you did flag us down, didn’t you? Held out your wand?”

“Yes,” Potter said quickly, although Kakashi knew for a fact that he had done no such thing. At least not on purpose. “How much to London?”

Shunpike’s eyes traveled to Kakashi for a second. “Just one?” he asked. “What about your friend?”

“He’s not—"

“Me too. To London please,” Kakashi interrupted Potter immediately. “How much?”

“Eleven Sickle per person,” Shunpike said completely ignoring the way Potter stared at Kakashi in surprise. “Thirteen if you want a hot chocolate and for fifteen you get a bottle of warm water and a toothbrush in a color of your choice.” Kakashi had no idea what a Sickle was.

Potter nudged him in the side. “What are you doing? Who even are you?” he asked, but he whispered it so lowly that it was difficult for even Kakashi to understand. Obviously, Potter didn’t want to create a scene in front of Shunpike.

Kakashi nudged him back, but he didn’t answer. “Can I pay in Pound Sterling?” he asked looking in his pockets for the last bit of change he had.

Shunpike seemed put off by the question. “That’s 3.20 each.”

Kakashi nodded, he pulled out the last money he had. A single 20 Pound bill. Shunpike made a face. “Sorry, can’t change that.”

“I’ve got it,” Harry sad quickly. He searched in his pockets and then produced a number of silver coins. He stared at Kakashi, as he handed the money over.

Shunpike took the money, counted it quickly, then he stepped aside. “Alright, come in, come in.”

“Wait, I need a moment. I lost my wand,” Potter suddenly remembered.

Wand… Sirius had spoken about wands quite a bit he remembered. A thing he missed dearly. Kakashi had no concept of it in his head.

“You lost your wand, Neville?” Shunpike asked as if that was the most ridiculous thing ever. “You’ve got to hold on to that, man!” He turned towards the inside of the bus. “Ern, heard that? The boy lost his wand!” He snickered a little.

Meanwhile Kakashi watched curiously, as Potter searched around the bus and on the street. He blushed a little from embarrassment. Then he went on his knees, searched with his arm under the bus and finally pulled it back holding the wooden stick in his hand. “Got it!” Potter exclaimed. “Sorry for the wait.” He held the stick up high. A wand…

“Okay, okay,” Shunpike waved him back over impatiently. “Now, come in.” He looked at Kakashi. “You too. What’s your name?”

“Charlie,” Kakashi said quickly. He didn’t know why Potter needed an alias, but he decided to use one, because Kakashi was clearly a Japanese name and he didn’t look Japanese anymore. “Charlie Major.”

“Well, come in Charlie Major. Ern, that’s Charlie. Our driver, Ernie Prang.” The old man in the driver seat gave Kakashi a toothless smile through thick glasses. “That’s yours.” He pointed at one of many empty brass beds that stood all across the inside of the bus. It seemed much bigger from the inside. “And that, Ern, that’s… Bloody hell, what are you doing Neville!” Shunpike exclaimed jumping out of the bus. “Get inside. I’ll take care of that! Ernie, Neville Longbottom. Your bed is the one next to your friend.”

Potter was shoved into the bus and after Kakashi. He followed the directions, looking a little dazed. Multiple times, Kakashi saw him glance back towards his trunk, broom, and birdcage. The only thing he still had in his hand was his wand. Then he relaxed a little, as he saw Shunpike manhandle his trunk into the bus.

Kakashi sat down on the mattress. It squeaked horribly, and it didn’t feel very comfortable. He had no intention to sleep on it, though, so he didn’t mind. The walls of the bus were decorated in wood panels, there were candles next to the beds. A tiny wizard slept in one bed. He mumbled something, then turned and continued sleeping. Kakashi experimentally bopped up and down on the mattress, listening to the squeaking.

He turned to Potter when he heard him sit down on an equally loud mattress.

“Who are you?” Potter whispered silently, staring at him through wide eyes. The round glasses were still somewhat crooked on his nose from the fall.

“Charlie,” Kakashi said in a lazy drawl.

Potter frowned. Obviously, that didn’t answer his question. “You’re a wizard?” he asked. “But I was certain I’m the only one!”

“You mean the only one in Little Whinging?” Kakashi asked, purposefully leaving the first question unanswered. He preferred not to lie, if he didn’t have to, and Potter would assume even without Kakashi having to say anything. “I’m not from here. I came from… Eh… I came from Horley.”

The way Potter’s eyes brightened as if Kakashi hung the moon made Kakashi almost regret his words. “But that’s so close!” Potter exclaimed giddily. “And you’re my age too. I never knew there was another… well, another wizard so close.” He sounded almost embarrassed as he spoke the words with a similar tone of confidentiality that the woman earlier had used as she spoke of St. Brutus’s Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys. “Are your parents muggles?”

Kakashi nodded. At least that way, he could excuse his lacking knowledge about the wizarding world with his muggle partens. Why was this kid so giddy? Potter’s excitement made Kakashi nervous. The way he looked at Kakashi. There was a longing in Potter’s green eyes that was entirely foreign to Kakashi.

“That’s—I mean, we’re basically neighbors!”

“Hardly,” Kakashi said, because Horley might be close but not that close.

“Yes, yes. Of course… But it’s just an hour with the bike. You have a bike?”

Kakashi shook his head. Immediately, Potter’s enthusiasm deflated.

“Oh… Yeah, me neither. But still, Horley is so close, I could probably walk that. We could play together.”

Was he in such dire need for a playmate he wouldn’t mind walking ten miles there and back? Angrily, Kakashi remembered the way the woman had talked about him. A difficult incurably criminal child who gave his uncle trouble ever since being young? It didn’t sound like that. The boy behaved like an isolated child in need of a friend. Uncomfortably aware, that he had awaken a hope in the boy that he couldn’t fulfill, Kakashi scratched his head. He didn’t want to answer Potter’s unspoken question if they could be friends. Either he’d agree and break Potter’s heart when he ultimately revealed himself as a liar, or he would deny him right here.

Thankfully though, Potter didn’t demand an answer right away. Instead he continued his barrage of questions: “Do you go to Hogwarts? You’re around my age, so you’d be my year, right? Or maybe forth grade? I’ll start my third year soon. But I never saw you there. Which house are you in?”

“No,” Kakashi answered, happy he could finally say something without immediately disappointing the other boy. “I’m not in Hogwarts.” It would be difficult to believably pretend that he knew anything about this school. He didn’t even know enough to answer this house-question.

Potter deflated a little. Then he scratched his head in a way that made his hair stick out even more wildly. “How? I though all kids—”

He was interrupted as Shunpike finally managed to secure all of Potters belongings inside the bus. With a bang and a sudden force that made Kakashi topple backwards and Potter perform a somersault off his bed, the bus shot down the road.

“Ouch…” Potter rubbed his shoulder using a nightstand to climb back to his feet. “What was…” But he cut himself off, staring down at the window. Kakashi followed his line of view. The streets, houses, cars – all of which were little more than blurry spots, rushed past so fast, it was difficult even for Kakashi to make out anything. Most surprisingly, however, they suddenly seemed to be somewhere else entirely.

These streets didn’t look like Little Whinging anymore.

“That’s where we were when you flagged us down,” Shunpike said a pimple-faced smile spreading from ear to ear. “Where are we, Ern? Somewhere in Wales?”

“How can the Muggles not hear the bus?” Potter asked.

Kakashi turned toward the conversation, curious as well. He had wondered about that too.

“Them! Don’t listen properly, do they? Don’t look properly either. Never notice nothing, they don’t.” Shunpike was distracted when Ernie called for him to wake one of the other passengers.

Kakashi looked after him. Was that really it. Did muggles not notice magic because they were simply not aware enough. He doubted that could be all there was. How did one miss a bus teleporting right in the middle of a street or weaving its way through magic like this? He remembered the wizards teleporting…apparating in the middle of London. That couldn’t be all there was to why the muggles hadn’t noticed it.

Before he could think any further about it, the bus came to a sudden halt. Kakashi just barely had enough time to use a small burst of chakra to his feet to remain standing. Potter on the other hand smacked flat against the panel that separated the passenger area from the driver seat. The other occupant of the bus didn’t react quite as violently. In fact, the wizard asleep in his bed, just turned around with little grumble and started snoring.

Potter quickly stood back up and sat down on his bed, clearly hoping that if he sat, he wouldn’t be thrown around again. In fact, when the bus started moving, the entire bed slid forward a little, but Potter remained seated. He looked a little relieved.

Shunpike leaned against one of the bed frames, standing utterly comfortable, as if the bus wasn’t a hell ride that made standing entirely impossible unless you knew chakra… or magic, Kakashi guessed. The conductor pulled out a newspaper – one of those magical ones with unreadable script and moving pictures like the newspaper clipping Sirius had shown him days ago.

Kakashi threw it a quick glance, then noticed disappointed that he still couldn’t read more than a few letters and was about to turn back to his conversation with Potter, when something caught his side. There the image on the front cover. He knew that image!

It was the same picture of Sirius Black that he had seen on the muggle newspaper, only here the image moved. He could see Sirius fight against his restraints, try desperately to shake of the hands that were holding him. He could see him gulp in air and scream and scream and scream. It was utterly soundless. The image didn’t come with sound. Maybe it was that, which made Sirius eternally screaming on the front cover more devastating for Kakashi to watch. There was despair and grief in haunted eyes. He was screaming for help, screaming for somebody to listen… but there was no sound.

“That man!”

Kakashi flinched from surprise when Harry yelled out next to him pointing at the newspaper.

“That man was on the Muggle news!”

“Sirius Black,” Shunpike nodded looking at the front page. “’Course he was, Neville. Where have you been?” With a chuckle he passed the paper on to Potter.

Kakashi glanced over Potter’s shoulder, but he had a lot of troubles deciphering the fancy letters. He had only barely made out the title, when Potter was already halfway through the entire article. Potters lips moved slightly as he read. The article wasn’t very long, but Kakashi stood no chance. Instead of reading it, he watched Sirius Black on the cover. A sunken face with shadowed, desperate eyes and waxy white skin.

“Scary-looking thing, isn’t he?” Shunpike said watching the boys.

“He murdered thirteen people with one curse?” Potter asked in a dazed voice as he handed the newspaper over to Kakashi, who didn’t even bother to try and read the article.

“Yep, in front of witnesses an’ all. Broad daylight. Caused big trouble.” He sat down in an armchair opposite Potter. “Black was a big supporter of You-Know-Who.”

Kakashi didn’t know who. Potter however seemed to know. “What, Voldemort?”

And with that single name, suddenly all color drained from Shunpike’s face, and the whole bus made a sudden jump to the side, as Ernie jerked the steering wheel around. Kakashi was more intrigued by the way a farmhouse magically jumped out of the way, than he was by the name, though he remembered Sirius mentioning it once before.

Shunpike was yelling in anger and shock, Potter was apologizing hastily, quickly correcting himself.

Shunpike seemed to feel better with that. “Yeah, that’s right. Very close to You-Know-Who, they say… anyway, when little Harry Potter got the better of You-Know-Who all you You-Know-Who’s supporters was tracked down, wasn’t they, Ern? Most of them knew it was all over, with You Know Who gone, and they came quiet. But not Sirius Black. I heard he thought he’d be second-in-command once You-Know-Who had taken over.”

Kakashi followed the explanation curiously. The way Shunpike told it certainly sounded a lot different to what Sirius had said. In fact, apart from saying that he was innocent and that his friend betrayed him, Sirius hadn’t said much about the war that had preceded his capture at all. Kakashi remembered that he had mentioned this You-Know-Who-Voldemort-person. Kakashi however hadn’t known, that Potter had ended this Voldemort. If Potter was a famous hero of the war, that would maybe explain why he used a false name.

Then again, hadn’t all of this taken place over a decade ago? Kakashi had become a shinobi at five, but Potter would only have been a toddler… That would be too young to stop an enemy even for a shinobi. Maybe they were talking about a different Harry Potter. The father maybe, that was Sirius’ friend… But no, Sirius had said his name. What had he said his friend’s name was? He tried to remember. James. Luckily Kakashi had a good memory. James Potter.

“Anyway, they cornered Black in the middle of a street full of Muggles and Black took out his wand and he blasted half the street apart, and a wizard got it, and so did a dozen Muggles what got in the way. Horrible, eh? And you know what Black did then?”

Kakashi listened with bated breath. This was so different to Sirius’ own explanation. Sirius had mostly talked about his friends, about the way Potter’s parents had died. That they were betrayed by the rat, but Sirius took the blame for it. The only thing he had said about the twelve muggles who had died… Kakashi recalled his conversation with Sirius.

Sirius had hunted the rat down, the rat killed the muggles, faked his own death…

Sirius hadn’t mentioned that it had all been just one devastating attack. One technique to kill a dozen people. Kakashi decided it was the last time he took magic lightly. He had played around with those two in London, but if they had skills to kill him and an entire street of people in the blink of an eye…?

“Laughed!” Stan answered barely giving the two boys any time to answer to his question. “Just stood there and laughed. And when reinforcements from the Ministry of Magic got there, he went with them quiet as anything, still laughing his head off. ‘Cause he’s mad, isn’t he, Ern? Isn’t he mad?”

Kakashi remembered the anguish in haunted eyes, helpless screaming from a newspaper cover. He remembered the way Sirius had broken out into loud barking laughter when Kakashi first found out about him. Kakashi had stopped him, caught him in a genjutsu to quiet him, because he hadn’t been able to bear to that gut-wrenching laughter. Kakashi hadn’t seen madness in those eyes, hadn’t heard madness in his laughter. Nor had he heard any amusement. Just pure, painful despair.

“If he weren’t when he went to Azkaban, he will be now,” Ernie answered from the driver seat. “I’d blow myself up before I set foot in that place. Serves him right, mind you… after what he did…”

Azkaban… That was the prison, he knew. Sirius had mentioned it, but never really talked about it. Whenever Kakashi thought about it, he imagined a regular prison, but the way Ernie spoke about it, it didn’t sound like a regular prison.

A thirty-three-year-old looking like a fifty-year-old. The signs of meticulous, prolonged starvation. Kakashi had already recognized the signs though he hadn’t been certain, yet. Torture… What was it with this place? What was there about Azkaban that made Ernie rather kill himself than step foot in it?

“Never been a breakout from Azkaban before.” Kakashi had missed part of the conversation. “Beats me how he did it. Frightening, eh? Mind, I don’t fancy his chances against them Azkaban guards.”

Soon after, they changed the topic. Apparently, Azkaban wasn’t something any of them wanted to talk about for longer than necessary. It was itching in Kakashi’s fingers to ask more about Sirius. What kind of witnesses had there been, that Shunpike had mentioned? How had they proven that it was Sirius who had done the killing? What kind of technique had he used?

But he didn’t find it in himself to ask. Part of it was because he couldn’t risk revealing that he knew anything about Sirius, part of it was because the conversation had already dragged on, and he was just secretly glad they had finally stopped talking about Sirius Black.

****** 

Potter told them to drive him to a place called ‘Diagon Alley’ and Kakashi agreed deciding it would be smartest to stay with Potter, until he at least knew where to find him. After that, he could still go back to the bridge and look for Sirius, as long as he knew where Potter was.

After they arrived, Shunpike groaned and complained, as he heaved Potter’s suitcase out on the streets of London. It was almost midnight, Kakashi guessed. This morning, he had left London and now he was back here. However, looking around this was a much different part of the city. A dingy dark corner.

They were dropped off in front of a small pub called the Leaky Cauldron. The name hung in crooked letters above the front door. The whole place looked very untrustworthy to Kakashi.

He was distracted when a man stepped out of the pub. He didn’t at all look like he belonged in that establishment – or on this street. A portly little man in a clean pin-striped cloak, with a neatly parted tuft of grey hair on his head, standing in the entry to a shabby club that looked as if it was worth less than the bowler hat on the man’s head. However, although well-groomed and in an official looking cloak, he didn’t look at all dignified. His face was red and somewhat puffy, tired bags under his eyes and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. “There you are, Harry,” he exclaimed, putting a hand down on Potter’s shoulder completely ignoring Kakashi right next to him.

The man’s appearance caused quite some excitement. Shunpike yelled out for Ernie to look who was there, and Potter paled as he looked up and obviously recognized the man. Kakashi seemed to be the only one who didn’t know this guy.

Shunpike seemed confused, why ‘Neville’ was called ‘Harry’. So, the newcomer quickly cleared that confusion up and destroyed Potter’s secret identity. The way everybody was suddenly fawning over him, Kakashi was quite certain that his popularity was the reason he had chosen an alias in the first place. Kakashi felt almost bad for him.

The newcomer seemed to have no interest to watch Shunpike and Ernie fawn over Potter, so he quickly pushed him inside. Kakashi made to sneak away when a slight tuck on his sleeve called him back.

Potter was holding on to him, and Kakashi didn’t quite have it in him to abandon him to this portly little stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's in the mix now. Expect some Harry PoV soon. Probably not next chapter, or maybe even the one after, but I intend to put in quite a bit of Harry PoV while they are in the Leaky Cauldron. Don't worry about Sirius, you'll get a short update on him in next chapter.
> 
> So, yes I already meantioned above, that I took a few quotes directly from the scene. In this chapter this pertains mostly to Shunpike, next chapter it'll (to a lesser degree) also happen with Fudge. Maybe you noticed, that I changed some quotes... For example I decided to ignore Shunpike's odd speechp patterns in writing. Mostly because I have no idea how to wite dialects or accents, so ... just imagine he has a dialect. Otherwise I'd face the problem, that in the parts Shunpike says that I don't take from the book, I wouldn't know what to do with his dialect... I rather he has no dialect at all, than switching the dialect halfway in.
> 
> Also just as a warning. I originally didn't plan to spend all that long in diagon alley / the leaky cauldron, with Kakashi having to learn everything new and with some plot happening in between... So the holidays will last a bit longer than I hoped. We'll spend a few more (~5) chapters in the Leaky Cauldron.
> 
> Also as a quick explanation. While all this happened with Sirius and Kakashi, Harry had his normal Prisoner of Azkaban book-plot happen to him. He celebrated his birthday roughly a week or so after Sirius' escape from Azkaban, Marge visited and he ran from the Dursleys. Unlike in the book, Sirius looses a bit of time. He spends a week in Norfolk, but he also then moves really fast towards London. In the book I imagined he spend the first few days, getting something to eat, and then he moved at a slower pace - instead of making 20+ miles a day on an empty stomach. Kakashi is a littl faster than Sirius. He arrives when Sirius would've arrived in Canon. This of course changes things a little. You'll see the impact it has on Sirius' plot in the next chapter. (I think).


	14. XIV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has come to my attention that not everybody here has read Harry Potter. Most of you seem to be Naruto fans more so than HP. Especially if we now go into the more 'magical' part of the story, would you prefer me to give short explanations for HP-specific knowledge (or Naruto specific-knowledge) that isn't explained right there in the chapter. Or do you want to learn with Kakashi? Even if it might take a few chapters until he understands something - or even if he never quite understand everything?

Sirius had searched London all night into the early morning hours when he almost fell over from exhaustion. No trace of Kakashi. Sometimes he found his scent – or he thought he did but then he lost it again. For all he knew, Kakashi could be anywhere. Even back home in Japan — and those times when Sirius thought he smelled him, that might just be imagination, created by his tired mind.

He woke up late the next morning, having almost slept until noon. It was only in the daylight that he realized he had fallen asleep in Streatham. He considered going back to the bridge, but he had gone back there surely four or five times during the last night, and it now seemed so far away. Almost the other side of London. In the meantime, he realized, if he set a hard pace south, he could reach Little Whinging by nightfall.

Kakashi could be anywhere. There was no point…

He felt incredibly guilty as he thought that. After all the kid had done for him… Well, if he was still in London, he was better off without Sirius. Hadn’t that been, why Sirius brought him to London in the first place? Because there were police, and embassies and, yes, even the ministry of magic, that could help the boy? If Kakashi was still in London, Sirius was certain, he was better off without him. If he wasn’t… He’d probably be relieved to finally be rid of the mass-murderer.

And if he wasn’t in London, Sirius had no chance to find him anyway.

And Harry was still waiting in Little Whinging. Sirius itched to see his godson again. The last time he had seen Harry, he had to leave him behind in Hagrid’s arms. He had begged Hagrid to give Harry to him, but when Hagrid had refused, Sirius had left the boy. Had abandoned him. He still remembered the way the boy had reached for him, crying for his mom and dad, reaching out for _Uncle Pa’Foo_.

On his way, Sirius dug through several waste bins to find something edible. He missed Kakashi’s cooking already, but he wasn’t squeamish. He had lived 12 years off of grey, tasteless paper mâché-like mush. In comparison, what muggles threw away was pretty okay. He even struck gold in the dumpster behind a supermarket, where somebody had dumped so much still edible food, that he could feed an entire family with it. Of course, in his dog form he had no pockets, to take more than he could carry in his mouth, and he wasn’t comfortable to turn to his human form just to eat, so he quickly ate what he could, before he was shooed away by the shop owner.

He dragged an entire loaf of bread with him.

It was long past nightfall that he finally came upon Little Whinging. He’d been slower than he had hoped, still tired from the days of marching before.

Sirius didn’t remember Petunia’s address, but he did remember her husband’s last name, so he tore his way through a muggle phone book until he found the information he wanted. Dursley, 4 Privet Drive.

He found the address just past 11. Something wasn’t right though. He felt magic buzzing in the air the way he wouldn’t expect it in a muggle neighborhood, even if a wizard or even a few lived here. People in wizarding robes were standing around the street, shaking their heads, brandishing wands, and muttering spells that he couldn’t hear from the distance.

He wanted to stay away, wanted to turn tail, and run…

The way he had done with Kakashi! But not again. Something had happened here! Something had happened, and his godson was somehow involved. Surely, he was. After all this was his address.

Lily and James would gut him, if they knew, he’d even considered abandoning their son again.

He quietly snuck closer. Ducking his dog body into the hedges surrounding the premises. The dark covered him like a blanket, he had to rely on that – or at least on the fact that nobody knew of his animagus form.

The wizards and witches all around Privet Drive were ministry officials. He recognized their uniforms, but he couldn’t get close enough to read the badges on their chests to find out which department they were from. Several of them hurried from house to house to obliviate Harry’s neighbors.

At 4 Privet Drive, Petunia and… that had to be her husband and son, although Sirius had never met them before – stood with pale faces, the parents hugging their boy. Sirius was certain this wasn’t Harry. He was the right age, but he didn’t look anything like the Harry he remembered, nor like Lily or James. Harry had black hair and green eyes. This boy was blond. Sirius remembered Lily telling them, that her sister had a son that age too. So, it had to be him. He looked a lot like his father too. Both blond and fat. There was another woman, looking very much like Mr. Durlsey, sitting in a garden looking dazed, with a small dog jumping around her and barking loudly.

Where was Harry?

He couldn’t see the boy anywhere. Worry crept into his bones. Logically he knew that this might just be a case of accidental magic of a minor – these things could happen – but if so, where was the boy? In his mind, he remembered similar scenes during the war. Images of muggle families standing dazed next to the scene of a crime, of ministry officials rushing from house to house, desperate to erase all signs and memories of a massacre that had taken place. Images of bodies, left behind mangled and torn, showcased like a present for the aurors or order members to find.

Sirius had never seen how the world after the war had evolved. He had been captured right at the end of it and had never seen freedom again until he had jumped into the angry sea just two weeks ago.

So, when he thought of pale and shocked muggles, of obliviators rushing from house to house and the clear worry several of the ministry officials seemed to exude… Sirius had only one association in his mind.

He quickly jumped out of the way, when one of the obliviators ran past him to the next house, muttering under his breath. Sirius heard the name ‘Harry Potter’ but nothing else. Worry clawed at his insides, made him feel sick.

He was still to coward to do anything with the ministry officials all around him, so he waited until they disapparated one after the other. The Dursleys had already turned back into their house. Sirius knew, they would likely have less answers then the witches and wizards who had just left, but they would have to do… He was too scared to ask anybody else.

Jumping over the hedge into the Dursley’s garden, he bumped his snout against the terrace door. It was closed. Not even thinking about what he was doing, he quickly turned, pressed down against the handle, and then threw his entire weight against the glass door. It didn’t budge. He heard noise from the inside. Somebody heavy – maybe the boy – thundering down the stairs. He bent down to take one of the decorative stones from the terrace, smashed in a window, without hesitation and put his arm through it to open the door from the inside.

The boy… Petuia’s son came running into the kitchen with wide eyes. He looked at Sirius, face twisted in panic. Then just as Sirius barged through the door, the boy turned and made to run back into the corridor. Sirius saw him take in a deep breath to scream.

Sirius jumped after him, wrestled him to the ground and slammed a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. The boy’s yell was muffled down to a terrified squeak. It was more difficult than he had thought, with how much the boy weighed compared to Sirius’ haggard form.

“So, if I understand this correctly, your…uhm… ministry will pay for all the damages,” a man’s deep voice came out from the room next door. “When can I—”

The voice died down the second somebody opened the door to the corridor. Two men looked down on Sirius and the boy. The first one – the one who had spoken – Harry’s uncle, filling almost the entire frame. The other, much leaner and taller, looking over his shoulder.

“You!” Dursley yelped in surprise, shock freezing him to the spot. The other man was quicker to react. He pulled Dursley away and made a quick lunge towards Sirius.

Sirius hadn’t known there was another wizard left in the house until he felt the tip of a wand pressed painfully against his temple.

“Dursley, get out of here!” The wizard commanded. “And you… Let go of the boy. Slowly.”

“Where is Harry?” Sirius asked his voice shaking.

“You’d like to know huh? Get away from the boy!” The wizard hissed. His voice sounded a little strained as if worried but being the only one present with a wand and having it painfully digging into Sirius’ skull gave him power.

This time, Sirius followed the command. Slowly his hands let go of the boy. He made to climb back to his feet, when the wand switched warningly from his temples to his neck, pressing him down.

“Uh-uh, you’ll stay down there, and show me your hands.” The wizard hissed. “Boy get out of here. Your parents are already waiting outside. And you…”

“Tell me, where Harry is!” Sirius barked out. He was in no position to give commands, but fear made him unreasonable. If something had happened to Harry…! It was too late for him anyway. There was nothing he could do, short of attacking the wizard, which would surely just end with a _Stupefy_ in his back… if he was lucky.

“You’ve given us quite the shock,” the other man said. “But you’re predictable after all…” The wand tip pressed down hard. “You think there’s a promotion in for me, for recapturing You-Know-Who’s right hand man? KEEP YOUR HANDS UP!”

Sirius flinched at the sudden yell, putting his hands up higher. “Please…,” he begged, “what happened to Harry? Where is he? I’m inno—"

“ _Stupor_.”

***** 

It turned out the portly little stranger was Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. Kakashi remembered Sirius talking about him, and just like that he didn’t like the man. This was the leader of the institution that had abandoned his friend in this horrible place called _Azkaban_.

While Kakashi paid a lot of attention to the minister, the older man hardly even looked at him. He had only eyes for Potter and if the boy weren’t still holding on to Kakashi’s sleeve, the shinobi would have long left. Fudge explained that apparently floating his aunt wouldn’t have any consequences for Potter, and that the ministry had already dealt with the issue and altered her memories.

Kakashi was curious about the memory altering thing, but he got way to distracted by the way, the minister was fawning over Potter. He looked at him the way one would look at a prized toy, and he spoke in a tone as if they were old friends, although Kakashi was certain that they had never spoken before. He tried to urge Potter to eat and drink and make himself comfortable while talking about the floating-aunt-incident as if it was a – though regrettable but – quite common occurrence.

“I always stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays and I don’t ever want to go back to Privet Drive.” It was the first time Potter spoke since the minister had appeared. But it wasn’t the first time, that Kakashi had the impression, that things weren’t easy for the boy. Fudge didn’t seem to understand that. He quickly brushed the words aside and continued with his explanation.

Kakashi finally ripped his sleeve free from Potter, though instead of leaving him with the minister, he sat in one of the empty chairs and ate some of the food that Potter wasn’t even touching. He sniffed some of it before, but then quickly decided that although it was so sickly sweet, he might get diabetes from it, it wasn’t poisoned. Even the bread was somehow sweet.

They were in a small lounge with dark wood furniture. The owner of the dingy pub – a bald man with a hunchback called Tom – had let them into this room while giving them an almost toothless smile. Kakashi had utterly failed to guess his age. They had used their sticks… _wands_ to light a fire in the chimney and now it was slowly getting oppressively hot in here. Kakashi found it more and more uncomfortable.

Potter and Fudge continued their conversation. Potter seemed convinced he would get punished for the floaty-aunt but Fudge seemed to see no reason for punishment, even though Potter had apparently broken some sort of law prohibiting underaged wizards from using magic.

“It was an accident! We don’t send people to Azkaban just for blowing up their aunts!” Fudge cried out.

Kakashi almost spit out his tea with his involuntary snort. Poor choice of words, he thought. The mention of Azkaban had made him tune back in on the conversation.

It was the first time Kakashi had made a noise at all, and suddenly all eyes were on him.

“And who are you, if I may ask?” the minister said with a suspicious frown. “Harry is this a friend of yours?”

Potter looked at him contemplating. “I just met him,” he answered eventually. “He lives in the neighborhood.”

Fudge stared at the boy. “You just met him?” He sounded irritated. Then his eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. He fumbled with his overcoat and— Kakashi ripped the wand out of his hand the moment he pointed the tip at him.

“What?” Fudge gaped like a fish at his empty hand, then at Kakashi who now stood in front of him, when he had just sat at the table a second before. Lastly his eyes narrowed down on the wand in Kakashi’s hand. He paled a little. “Give that back!” he pointed with a trembling finger at the piece of wood.

Kakashi had no interest in keeping the stick. It was worthless to him. Now that he held it in his hand, he could feel no power coming from it. He was a little disappointed with that. Obviously, the wand was both a weapon and a useful tool for wizards, but to Kakashi it looked and felt like a crooked piece of wood with a leather handle.

“How dare you?!” Fudge cried out, finally finding his countenance again. “Do you even know who I am, brat? I am the minister of magic!” Gone was the fatherly voice he had used with Potter. Burning angry eyes were drilling into Kakashi.

“Mah,” Kakashi shrugged, “I didn’t like it when you pointed it at me.” He explained, twirling the wand in his hand, and then offering the wand back at the man, handle first.

Angrily, Fudge grabbed for his wand. Then, however, he seemed unsure what to do with it.

A small chuckle distracted them. Potter was watching with big eyes and a stupid grin on his face. Fudge looked at the kid, and almost immediately the angry lines on his face smoothed again. “I was just surprised,” he explained in a somewhat meek voice. “I didn’t know of another wizard living in Little Whinging.”

Potter’s mouth formed a small ‘oh’-sound. “Do you know where all the wizards live, minister?” He asked in a kind tone, apparently trying to smooth the tides a little and not giving Fudge another reason to point his wand at people again.

Fudge scratched his head, ruffling up his neat grey hair in the process. He gave a nervous chuckle. “Of course not, Harry, but…” His eyes flitted across the room looking for words. Kakashi didn’t like the man at all.

“But,” Potter continued the sentence for him with a small nod, “I’m special. I see.” He didn’t look happy as he said it, but instead of crying about it, he gave a tired shrug. “He’s not from Little Whinging. He says he’s from Horley.”

“Ah,” Fudge looked a little relieved then. “So, he’s a friend from Hogwarts?”

When Kakashi didn’t answer, Potter gave him a wry look. “No, he said he doesn’t go to Hogwarts.”

Fudge seemed confused. “Durmstrang then?” he offered sounding as if something didn’t add up in his mind. “What did you say your name was?”

Kakashi hadn’t said anything about his name. He hadn’t been asked before. “Charlie Major,” he recalled the name he had given earlier.

“Major… that’s not a wizarding family, I know?” Fudge shook his head. “Muggle parents, then?” Kakashi gave a short nod. “How come you’re not in Hogwarts? You would’ve gotten a letter when you turned eleven.”

Kakashi gave a shrug. Fudge looked at him suspiciously. Kakashi could see it itching in his fingers to grab for the wand again. If he pointed it at Kakashi a second time, he’d lose it once more.

Then, finally, Fudge nervously dragged his hand through his hair. He looked back at Potter, awkwardly. “In any case, Harry, I’m sure, Tom has a room for you.” He looked at Kakashi uncertainly. “Do you need a room, too?” It was obvious from his tone, Fudge had to force himself to include Kakashi in this.

“I don’t think I have enough money—” Kakashi started.

“I’ll pay for it,” Potter quickly offered already looking for coin in his pockets.

“No, no,” Fudge interrupted him, looking awkward. “I…uh… I’ll deal with that.”

Potter looked confused, but he stopped searching for money. There were a thousand questions written all over the boy’s face, as he looked after Fudge when he left the room. Kakashi heard the sound of his steps stop just outside the door. He heard Fudge whisper with Tom on the corridor. Neither of them left the vicinity of the door, as if they were worrying about something.

“I don’t get it,” Potter’s whisper distracted Kakashi from listening in on Fudge and Tom. “Why aren’t they punishing me? And what’s with paying for my room?”

Kakashi looked at him. “You offered to pay for me too,” he countered. “Thanks, by the way.”

Potter looked a bit sheepish. “Yeah, but… I mean he’s the minister. What’s he even doing here?”

“And your _Harry Potter_ ,” Kakashi replied evenly. The name didn’t really mean much to Kakashi, apart from being (hopefully) his ticket to find Sirius again. Yet, to the wizarding world _Harry Potter_ was obviously somebody special.

Apparently, he had chosen the wrong words. Potter’s gaze darkened a little as he evaded Kakashi’s eye contact. “Yeah, right…”

Before Kakashi could even contemplate apologizing for maybe offending the boy, the door opened again. A pair of suspicious eyes shot to Kakashi, then softened visibly as they traveled to Potter. Fudge obviously didn’t like his presence around the boy.

“Room eleven’s free,” he said to Potter, then quickly glanced at Kakashi. “And you can have room 14.” Tom shuffled into the room behind the minister. “Harry, I’m sure you’ll be very comfortable. Just one thing, and I’m sure you’ll understand… I don’t want you wandering off into Muggle London, all right? Keep to Diagon Alley. And you’re to be back here before dark each night. I’m sure you’ll understand. Tom will be keeping an eye on you for me.”

Kakashi was reeling. _Muggle London_? Did that mean there was another wizarding London – this Diagon Alley place that Fudge was talking about? Sirius had mentioned that wizards could hide placed from muggles overlapping with the real world. But entire streets? Was there a magical London hidden within London?

He got giddy with excitement, not even caring to listen to Potter’s confused question, why anybody would have to look out for him.

If there was such a hidden magical place here, one of those that Sirius had mentioned… a place hidden away in another sub-dimension, maybe here Kakashi could start learning about magical dimensional travel.

“Have you had any luck with Black yet?”

Potter’s question made Kakashi’s thoughts grind to a halt. Sirius! He peered at the Minister. Curiously, the minister looked back at him, frowning in suspicion.

“What was that?” Fudge laughed awkwardly. “Oh, you’ve heard – well, no, not yet, but it’s only a matter of time. The Azkaban guards have never yet failed… and they are angrier than I’ve ever seen them.” He shuddered nervously. Kakashi could smell fear coming out of every pore of his body.

There it was again… The Azkaban guards… What was it with these guards to make everybody fear them so? Just like in the Knight Bus, Potter showed no reaction, knowing apparently as little about the Azkaban guards as Kakashi himself.

“Now, ehm… If you’d already go to your room, Harry?” Fudge suggested holding the door for Potter, his eyes twinkled kindly at Potter, but then settled much more seriously on Kakashi. “I’d like to talk to your…eh…friend, please?”

Potter didn’t move. His eyes narrowed suspiciously at Fudge. Kakashi could see him push his jaw forward in a defiant motion. He was half certain, Potter would soon jump to stand up to Fudge, if the minister dared to do something to his new friend. It was clear that Fudge didn’t trust Kakashi, and apparently, even Potter had noticed and was ready to defend Kakashi.

It made Fudge chuckle more nervously. “Just a minute, Harry. About… uh, your friend’s education. Him not being in Hogwarts, that must have been a mistake.”

Potter seemed uncertain whether to believe the – for Kakashi – obvious lie. “Just go,” Kakashi said a little impatient. Whatever Fudge wanted, he should get it over with quick, and Kakashi saw no reason to fear the minister.

Still unsure, Potter nodded, and left the room, not without turning to Kakashi one final time. Then, just as he left, he asked the minister: “So, will he join us at Hogwarts, then?”

The minister seemed unhappy with the answer, but he gave a vague nod, if only to appease the boy. When the door fell shut, leaving Fudge and Kakashi alone, Fudge stared at Kakashi.

“So, where did you get the _Polyjuice_?” he asked with narrowed eyes. He was grabbing his wand tightly, but not actually pointing it at Kakashi, maybe rightly afraid he might lose it again.

“The what?” Kakashi had no idea what he was talking about.

“Don’t sell me for a fool, Black. A magical kid pops up in the village right next to Harry Potter. A muggleborn kid who doesn’t go to Hogwarts?” He laughed as if the idea was absurd. “You could’ve come up with a better lie. That must have been quite unlucky for you, that the boy managed to call the Knight Bus just before you caught up to him, huh?” He grinned snidely. Kakashi was sure he was already imagining the headlines at having caught Black all by himself. Well, Fudge was making a fool out of himself.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, minister,” Kakashi said using the title in an attempt to feign respect.

Fudge snorted. “Is that so? Well, as I just stepped out, I had one of my subordinates check your story. There is no muggleborn wizard called Charlie Major in Horley.”

Shit… They had a registry. Kakashi should have known that. Mind reeling, trying to come up with a believable excuse, he tried to win some tome.

“Well, I’m not Black. I didn’t even know about Black until a week ago.”

Fudge lifted his wand a little. “Well, it would be easy to check if you’re using _Polyjuice_ ,” he said. “And then, I’d be curious to know who helped you. Already got into contact with your old—”

He was rudely interrupted when the door burst open behind him. It bumped against him, making the minister fall forward, letting go of his wand in shock. He made a rather undignified yelp.

“Minister Fudge, boss!” a young witch all but exploded into the room, hair wild, pink, and disheveled looking ecstatic and proud.

“What?” Fudge said, hastily standing up again, patting down his clothes and then looking for his wand. Wide eyes settled on Kakashi.

Kakashi picked up the wand as it came rolling over the carpet toward him. This time, he wasn’t so quick to give it back to the minister. He didn’t fancy being threatened by it a third time, and he wasn’t entirely certain his transformation would last against whatever _Polyjuice_ -detection spell the minister wanted to test on him.

“What are you doing there, boss?” the witch asked confused frowning down at the minister, who stiffly clambered back to his feet. “Anyway, not important. We have him!”

Fudge, still frowning at Kakashi, seemed to only listen with one ear. “Who. Tonks, be clear! I thought Shacklebolt taught you to give detailed reports!”

“Black of course, sir,” she grinned.

Kakashi paled. It was a good thing Fudge whirled around in that moment and couldn’t see Kakashi’s visible shock. “What do you mean you have him, I thought…?”

“Yes. He just appeared at Privet Drive. Quite reckless if you asked me,” the young woman said smartly. “The guys from the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad were just finishing up with his family when he suddenly came bursting into the room. Kept asking where the boy is and what happened. He didn’t even have a wand.”

Fudge blinked multiple times, stared at the witch as if her story was absolutely absurd. Then he turned back to Kakashi, shaking his head. “I…Well, it seems I have been mistaken.”

“No worries,” Kakashi grit out through clenched teeth. He didn’t care at all about Fudge suspecting him anymore. Instead his mind was reeling. Sirius was caught!

“Where is he?” Fudge turned back to his subordinate, grabbing for the cloak that was hanging over one of the big armchairs.

“We have him in ministry custody,” she answered. “Ready to be shipped off to Azkaban, first thing in the morning.”

“Great!” Fudge exclaimed sounding gleeful. “That will look nice on the front cover. Maybe there’s enough time for a good picture.” He quickly threw the cloak over his shoulder and didn’t even bother to close the buttons. With a last glance, at Kakashi (“Enjoy your stay here, Major.”), he was out of the door, closing it behind himself with a heavy thud.

Kakashi stayed back, stunned.

Sirius had been captured! He would be brought back to Azkaban in a few hours. It was long past midnight. There wouldn’t be much time to get him out! Azkaban! That place everybody talked about as if it was hell on earth. He remembered the first time he saw a starved and sickly dog on the beach. The first time, the dog had turned into a trembling, haggard man, looking like a skeleton with sunken eyes and pallid skin wearing nothing but rags with the scars of shackles around his wrists. He remembered the despair in those eyes… A man only 33 years old looking almost twice his age.

The way everybody paled at the mention of the Azkaban guards.

Kakashi didn’t really know anything about Azkaban, but he would die before he’d let these people throw his friend back in there!

He quickly hurried to the window fumbling a little with the unfamiliar mechanic until he got it open. Down on street level, he could see Fudge and the witch hurry out of the pub with fluttering cloaks. Kakashi climbed out of the window, sticking to the wall of the building. He’d just have to follow them to find Sirius.

They hurried around a corner into a small alleyway. Kakashi followed right after them, unseen. Then, there was a sudden _crack_.

They were gone… Shit!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In regards to what I mentioned above (for those who don't know HP), is it okay for you, that for example you don't know what polyjuice is. Or would you prefer it be explained before the chapter? If overall you want to learn with Kakashi you could still ask in the comments of course.
> 
> Anyway, about this chapter... I feel really bad for Sirius. Because Sirius arrived a bit later and Harry was already gone, Sirius got himself captured. He has Kakashi looking for him, of course. But what can Kakashi do?


	15. XV

“How do I get to the Ministry of Magic?” Kakashi barged into room 11 without even knocking. _Ministry_ _custody_ , the witch had said. He just hoped that meant Sirius was actually in the ministry and not some other facility. At least he wasn’t in Azkaban yet.

Potter stared at him with wide green eyes. He had his trunk half unpacked. Clothes were strewn around the entire room. Kakashi didn’t care about the chaos. He had only one thing in mind.

“The ministry!” he demanded impatiently. “How do I get there?”

“What do you want in the ministry?” Potter asked instead of answering. He sounded like Kakashi’s urgency was amusing to him.

_I’m going to free a convicted mass-murderer. Sirius Black, you might have heard of him._ Kakashi huffed in frustration. He quickly had to come up with a different explanation.

“Fudge wanted to help me get into Hogwarts, but then he just up and left. So, now I’ll go to him.” He should start writing all his lies down so he wouldn’t mix them up.

Potter laughed out loud. “You want to…,” he shook his head. “He’s the minister of magic. Surely, he has better things to do. Just write a letter.”

Kakashi was annoyed. “Sure, great. How do I do that? What’s the address?”

“I have no idea. But I bet an owl will find it.” Potter gave a shrug.

Kakashi’s eyes narrowed to small slits. “What do I need an owl for?” He was quite certain _owls_ were a kind of bird.

Apparently, he had said something wrong. Potter looked at him with huge eyes. “To send a letter,” his voice tilted in a way as if Kakashi’s question had made him uncertain.

“You can send a message with an owl?” Kakashi asked surprised. In Konoha they used specially trained hawks, that could fly between certain spots, or on trained routes. Birds who found their destination even if the wizard didn’t know where the destination was? Was it some sort of summon?

“Yeah,” Potter pointed to his birdcage. “If you want, when Hedwig returns, you can send a letter with her.”

Hedwig…? Kakashi quickly brushed his questions aside. He didn’t need an owl. He needed the address of the ministry of magic, and apparently this boy didn’t know it.

“So, you don’t know where it is?”

Potter shook his head. “No, but as I told you…,” something in Kakashi’s face made him stop. “What’s so important about it, Charlie? Hedwig will be back tomorrow.” Kakashi almost missed that Potter used his made-up name. “Why the hurry?”

Kakashi turned to search for the innkeeper. “I just really want to go to Hogwarts,” he called back to Potter because it was the best he could come up with.

He ran down to the pub and saw Tom at the bar. “How do I get to the ministry?”

“The ministry?” Tom gave him a toothless grin. “It’s too late.”

For a moment Kakashi panicked. Too late? Had they already done something to Sirius, that he couldn’t undo? Shit! Why had he just left from the bridge? Why couldn’t he do it right once! He couldn’t even keep somebody safe in a world without a single shinobi in it!

“Visiting hours ended at seven.”

What? Kakashi’s spiraling thoughts stopped to a halt.

The man spit into a rag and cleaned a glass with it. Kakashi absentmindedly decided to never eat here. “Yes, yes. Visitors only until 7 pm. You’ll have to wait for the morning.” He pointed at the clock, that was stuck at 11:48 o’clock. Kakashi knew for a fact that it was past midnight. Kakashi scowled. Was the innkeeper joking around?

“When do visiting hours start again, and how do I get there?” He didn’t care about visiting hours. If necessary, he would break in. But if that would make Tom tell him the address…

Tom looked at him for a moment. “They thought you were Black,” he chuckled, then he rummaged in a drawer under his bar. “Guess they were wrong about that, huh?”

“Yes,” Kakashi said impatiently leaning over the counter to see what the man was doing.

Tom drew out a frayed and dirty sheet of paper. Kakashi realized it was a street map, though not a very detailed one. Tom took a pencil and marked a cross on the map, then circled another section.

“That’s the Leaky Cauldron. Over here, that’s the visitor entrance for the ministry. Visiting hours start at 7 am. It looks like a red phone booth.” Tom offered. He turned the map around, scribbled a series of numbers on the other side.

Kakashi took the map, peered at it to get an idea how far it was. There was no scale though. He had no idea about the distance.

“Thank you.” He moved up to room 14. The one Fudge had already payed for. The key was in the lock. The room was dirty, small, and entirely empty apart from a bed, a table, and a chair. He quickly locked the door, then he climbed out of the window, looked on the map again, and hurried into the right direction.

Kakashi hadn’t understood the phone booth comment, until he arrived at the address, that Tom had marked on the map. There was nothing that looked like a ministry building, and as he went past the many doors on the unassuming street, none of the doors said ‘Ministry of Magic’ above the doorbells. There was a pub, a few rundown offices, and a broken streetlight. He looked at the map again and made a useless turn around his own axis. Had he read the map wrong?

Then his eyes found the red phone booth. The one Tom had mentioned. Tentatively he walked up to it. He studied it from the outside, but it looked just like any other phone booth he had walked past the days before. A secret entrance? Carefully he pulled the door open as if he expected the whole thing to explode in his face. The metal doors squeaked. He stepped in. It stank of old plastic and the trash that somebody had left in the corner. The phone booth was a mess. There was graffiti sprayed all over it, rude words, and ruder images. Somebody had smashed the telephone in, so that it was crooked, and the receiver hung down. There was no phonebook here, and the inscriptions of how to use it were smeared all over with graffiti, and half ripped off the walls.

Thankfully Kakashi had learned all about using these phone boxes just this morning. He put the receiver to his ear. There was an off-beeping noise. He had no coin, he realized. Careful not to break the already broken thing he put it down again. What now? Helplessly he looked back on the map. Turned it in his hands.

There… On the other side, Tom had scribbled down a series of numbers. Shrugging, Kakashi lifted the receiver again and dialed 62442. He waited nervously and then jumped when a voice spoke from right next to him.

“Welcome at the Ministry of Magic visitor entrance. We’re sorry to inform you that you reach us outside our regular business hours. Business hours are from 7 am to 8 pm. Thank you.”

The voice didn’t come from the receiver. It was as if the woman stood with him in the small telephone booth. He was so surprised by it, that he barely registered her words until it was already over.

He couldn’t get in. How long to 7 am? Hastily, he exited the booth again. It had to be somewhere here! He channeled his chakra let it flow into the earth to find anything that might be hidden there. He was good at using earth _ninjutsu_. Few things could hide from him underground. At the same time as he let his chakra work through the ground, he looked again at every building using the sharingan.

He didn’t have much hope to find anything. If the ministry was hiding in a different dimension – like he assumed that ‘Diagon Alley’-place did…

Nothing… And his search into the underground also came up empty. He found the London sewer system but that was it. Nothing…

It _had_ to be somewhere. He refused to give up! Kakashi dug deeper. And then…

Deep underground, the earth just stopped. There was a massive empty room underground. That had to be it.

Kakashi quickly formed hand signs for an earth-style _ninjutsu_ and then dug underground. First, he came out on the old sewer system. He didn’t take a break, and instead dug deeper. It was dark, but Kakashi never had problems orienting himself while moving through earth. It was a familiar exercise. He tunneled forward while simultaneously closing the path behind him. Then his hands came upon a different material: hard stone. It was easy to break it apart. The last layer to separate him from the room below was a hard steel barrier. Using his sharingan, he could see an odd aura lying over it like a web. It was almost impossible to make out and even more difficult to guess what it would do if he would touch it. He hesitated.

Putting his ear up close, while he just barely avoided touching the odd magic web, he listened, but it didn’t sound as if anybody was on the other side.

This aura… he stared at it again. It might be a warning spell, it might be a defensive barrier, it might only be something to protect from muggle detection. He didn’t know. Was there a chance he might die, touching it? Kakashi himself knew barrier seals that could be quite uncomfortable to run into unprepared. With these magical ones… He had no idea what they would do. He quickly created an earth clone from the rubble lying around him in the small tunnel.

The clone took one look back at Kakashi to assure itself, that the original was a safe distance away. Then it tentatively touched the aura. It quickly pulled its hand back, shaking it, as if it stung, but apparently the damage wasn’t bad enough to dissolve the jutsu.

**_GRUAA GRUAA~!_ **

Suddenly a loud alarm rang out. An alarm barrier! It could have been worse, Kakashi realized, just as the Clone punched hard against the metal, creating a significant dent. It channeled more chakra into its fist and then broke through. The moment the steel was broken, the alarm seemed even louder, blaring into the tunnel coming from the inside of the ministry. The clone put both hands through the wall. Kakashi could hear small pieces of brittle rock fall on the ground. There seemed to be another layer of stone or gypsum that the wall was made of. Then the clone used its chakra, to push the steel further apart, creating a big enough hole for it to crawl through.

It looked around, then jumped out of the hole, Kakashi following closely behind it. They were in a small office. It was dark apart from a bright orange light flaring at the ceiling. Part of the alarm, Kakashi assumed.

“Quick now,” Kakashi whispered, hurrying up to the door. Pushing it open just a bit, to peak through. The corridor was almost empty apart from a witch and wizard that quickly made their way to a set of elevators. Kakashi could make out the number over one of the elevators quickly climbing downward. He must be on the highest floor, but a small metal badge between two elevators told him this was the first floor. He quickly realized that the numbers were inverted, with the first floor being up top. Which meant, the decreasing number on the elevator to the left, indicated that somebody was quickly coming up here. Probably security guards, aurors, or other wizards to investigate the incident. Surely, they could detect where exactly the breach was. Kakashi would rather avoid the fight if he wanted to get to Sirius in time.

Kakashi lunged towards the wizard closest to him and quickly dragged him into the office, without the other witch noticing. He threw him into his clone’s arm. A flurry of hand signs and he turned into the spitting image of the wizard. The wizard looked at him with huge eyes, but in the flaring orange light and with only a split second before the clone grabbed him and covered his eyes with a piece of cloth, it would be difficult for him to remember anything of Kakashi’s looks.

Kakashi left his clone to tie up the wizard and close the hole as best as it could. It would be almost impossible to hide the torn open wall and steel barrier, but at least the clone could hide where they came from. Meanwhile, Kakashi hurried to the elevators, jumping into the one with the single witch who was already pressing the button for ‘down’.

“What’s going on, Bernie?” she asked him. He filed the name away for now, though he’d have to change disguise quickly, as it wouldn’t be long for the aurors to find the incapacitated wizard, once they came up looking for Kakashi. “You think it’s Black?”

“I heard they have him in custody,” Kakashi said fishing for information.

“Yes, that’s what I mean. You think he escaped again?” Her voice was frantic.

In that moment the elevator set into motion. Kakashi grabbed a metal handle for support as it rushed downward. He considered using a genjutsu to force her to tell him were the holding cells were, but in that moment, a voice announced “Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement”

Magical Law Enforcement… That sounded about right. When the doors opened, he was ready to leave, but instead four people rushed in. Wizarding robes fluttered and people seemed hurried and afraid. Despite the late hours, there were evidently still a lot of people working here.

Kakashi wanted out! He was about to shove against them when the doors slid shut again and the elevator went further down.

He felt stressed, stuck in such a tiny box with so many people, and if Sirius was in Magical Law Enforcement, he was even going into the wrong direction. Worried, he had no choice but to ride further down.

This time, the elevator slid all the way down to “Level Eight: Atrium.” Kakashi stepped out with everybody else. He quickly grabbed one of the guys from Magical Law Enforcement and dragged them into an empty room.

“Bernie!” The wizard cried out in a complaining whine. “What are you doing, Bernie? We need to get out, until the Aurors and Hit Wizard give the all-clear.” The wizard pulled at his arm to get free from Kakashi’s grip, but Kakashi’s fingers were locked around his wrists like steel.

He smashed the door shut behind them, after checking that they were really alone. Then, he dug into the man’s cloak, to take his wand out, threw it one way and then hurled the man over a desk and against the wall in the other direction. He clamped his left hand around his throat and the other over his mouth.

“Bern—” The last part of the name was muffled against Kakashi’s hand. He looked terrified.

“Where is Sirius Black?” Kakashi asked, his voice cutting and dangerous. “Tell me where Sirius Black is.” The man looked terrified, indeed, but he still managed to shake his head against Kakashi’s hand. “Tell me, or I will make you!” Kakashi warned, lifting his hand a little.

The wizard took in a deep breath of air and then—

Kakashi had his voice muffled again, before even the first sound of his cry for help could reach anybody’s ears.

He huffed in frustration. Kakashi didn’t like torture, but at home in Konoha, he was part of ANBU. It wouldn’t be long, and he would be a captain. Even while fighting in the war… Kakashi had learned a fair bit from the Torture & Interrogation unit. Both how to withstand it and how to use it. He would get this information.

He let go of the wizard, but before the man could even think about screaming again, Kakashi had quick hand signs formed and drowned the man into a genjutsu.

Matter of fact… Drowning sounded like a good start.

“The—The hold—holding cells! Level ten! Ho—holding Cell 12B. You’ll…You have to-to-to t-take the…the…the elevator to Level Nine and then-then the stairs. I don’t know who’s guarding him. He—He’ll be tr-transported to Az-Azkaban at six.”

It was an easy thing to make the wizard talk and it didn’t even take two minutes. Kakashi was almost disgusted with how easy the man broke, and he hadn’t even used his sharingan. Still, it was convenient for Kakashi, so he wouldn’t complain. The man immediately lost consciousness when Kakashi lifted the genjutsu which was also convenient. He left him where he was and pushed the door open.

Just as he walked back into the Atrium, the elevator doors, opened again and a group of wizards came out with their wands drawn.

“Where’s Bernie Mallack?” One of them cried out so loud, Kakashi would have to be deaf not to hear it. “Did anybody see Mallack?”

He was already too far into the Atrium, to avoid being seen. When the first people started pointing at him, he quickly fled down the emptiest corridor he could find. The signs told him he was on his way to the visitor bathrooms. He ran around a corner, and just as he was certain that for an instant nobody would see him, he created a shadow clone and then transformed himself into the spitting image of the pink haired witch who had come into the Leaky Cauldron earlier. How had Fudge called her? Tones?

“I got him,” he yelled out with the voice of the woman and pushed his clone around the corner towards the oncoming aurors.

“Good work, Tonks!” somebody congratulated him. “I didn’t know you were up here. Thought you’re with Black.”

Kakashi nodded. “I was there but thought you might need the help. This one probably tried helping him.” He pushed the clone forward rudely but made certain not to push hard enough to dissolve it. “It’s not really Bernie, I guess?” He put on a sheepish voice.

“Probably Polyjuice,” another auror replied. “We found Bernie bound and gagged up on level one.”

Kakashi nodded. Polyjuice, he was fairly certain by now, was the wizards’ way of transforming into other people “Then I’ll bring this guy down to level ten. He can share a cell next to his friend, until we find out who he is.” He looked for any reaction as he mentioned level ten. It was always good to recheck information gathered through torture he knew. Nobody reacted, however, so he assumed level ten was correct. He pushed the clone through the assembled group of wizards and witches towards the elevators. Two of the other aurors followed him. A man and a woman.

“He must have just used the potion,” the woman said pressing the button with an ornate looking number 9 on it. “So, it will wear off in an hour. Then we’ll know.” She was a lithe woman with short greying hair.

“Or maybe he’ll tell us,” the man suggested kicking the clone. For a second Kakashi feared it might just dissolve, but apparently the attack was very weak. “With the prospect of Azkaban many dark wizards sing like birds. They think they are strong – this one even dared to break into the ministry, the fool. But if you just mention Azkaban…” The man laughed. “There look how he’s squirming.” As he laughed his big chin was wobbling.

Kakashi looked down, and in fact, his clone was playing its part well. It looked rather pale, with lips pressed tightly together. “I won’t say anything,” it said, “You’ll have to torture it out of me.” Kakashi almost snorted at the melodramatic theatre.

“Well, no need. The Polyjuice will wear off in an hour,” the witch said again as the elevator doors slid open. Kakashi went a little bit behind the other two, to hide, that he didn’t know the way. He eyed the two aurors flanking him. The man had a big meaty hand grabbing the clone’s arm tightly. The woman led the way. Before they would reach the cells, Kakashi knew, he’d have to take them out. He’d rather just knock them out in a surprise attack then risking a fight once they realized he wasn’t Tonks when they saw the real one with Sirius.

****** 

He woke up in a ministry holding cell.

He woke up in a ministry holding cell.

He woke up—

Sirius couldn’t think past that point. He was lying on his back on cold stone ground, staring at the ceiling. He had woken up in— Desperately, he closed his eyes, pressed his palms against them to hide the itching there. He had lost.

Back to Azkaban… He couldn’t do that anymore. He had tasted freedom for barely two weeks but he hadn’t actually achieved anything apart from terrifying a fourteen year old Japanese wizard, who likely didn’t even know he was a wizard… and then making a fool of himself, as he stormed into the Drusley’s house to…

_Harry_!

“Where is Harry?” He asked out loud. It was the first time he spoke since he had woken up in the min— “Tell me what happened to him!” He climbed to his feet, turned to the steel bars, and searched the eyes of the hard-faced auror who stood opposite him with crossed arms, wand tightly gripped in his right. He knew this man… “Tell me Gibson, what happened there?” The man didn’t seem inclined to answer. He frowned disapprovingly. “I looked everywhere for Harry, but he wasn’t—”

“Don’t speak to me, Black,” Gibson commanded. Deep lines furrowed on his brow that made him look older than he was. Sirius grabbed the steel bars. His hands were shackled, as were his feet. He wouldn’t stop to consider his bindings. There was a panic attack waiting, lurking, and building up in the back of his mind, but he was desperately pushing it away.

He needed to know if Harry was alright!

“Come on, Alaric! We’re old friends.” _Friends_ was maybe too strong a word. Alaric had been a year above him in Ravenclaw. He’d been better friends with Lily and Remus than he’d been with Sirius.

“I was Lily’s friend,” Gibson said matter-of-factly, but his eyes were drilling holes into Sirius. There was hatred on his face. “And then you murdered her.”

Sirius took half a step back, before he remembered that he knew that. He knew, everybody thought him guilty. This was nothing new.

_Pull yourself together! Harry’s the most important now!_

“I didn’t—” he started.

“Don’t talk to me again, or I’ll force you to shut up,” Gibson warned.

Sirius snapped his mouth shut. His teeth clinked quietly.

_Give him a moment,_ Sirius thought. _Give him a minute to get used to your presence. Then you can ask again._

But in that moment the door to the ministry dungeons banged open. A bit of light spilled in from the corridor outside.

“It’s true,” came an ecstatic voice. He knew that voice. It was the last human he had heard before his escape from Azkaban.

_“You seem surprisingly sane, Black,” hateful eyes stared down at him. A disgusted sneer on thin lips._

_“Minister. Do you think you can part with your newspaper?” How he enjoyed the moment of bafflement on Fudge’s face. “I so enjoy the crosswords.”_

“The first man to ever escape Azkaban,” Fudge came sauntering up to the cell looking through the bars at Sirius. Sirius tried not to duck away from him and another memory of Azkaban.

_No point to avoid the memory, you’ll be back there soon enough._

“Did you think it would be so easy? That we wouldn’t catch you?” He leaned close to the bars. Close enough for Sirius to grab him, but he knew if he would, he’d regret it.

“Where is Harry?” Sirius asked quietly, trying to stick to reason, trying not to rage against the bars like the madman they were surely expecting. “What happened there?”

“What?” Fudge hooted. “Did you think maybe your precious Lord came to kill him?”

Indeed, he had thought of that. Maybe Voldemort was back, and nobody had told him. More likely, though, was a death eater who had avoided capture. Fear gripped at his heart, made breathing difficult.

“Well, you’re crowing too soon, Black. Harry Potter is safe and sound under the watchful eye of the ministry.”

Sirius looked up at him, into the minister’s face, to see if he could trust his words. The glee there was real, the mocking grin and disgusted sneer. He was speaking the truth. Harry was safe. Alive and healthy…

“Thank Merlin…” He whispered.

Fudge seemed surprised at that. “Huh… I guess, you really want to do it yourself? I see, I see. Well, this was your final chance.” He reached into his cloak and pulled out an old hourglass. “In four hours, you’ll be back to Azkaban. You get the first ride on the ferry. Feel proud: You’re ViP cargo to be sent off to Azkaban to be a ViP guest there. We’d like to find out how you did it? However, I think it might be more important—”

He was distracted when there was a knock at the heavy door to the cell block.

“Ah, just when I was getting impatient. Tonks could you get the door please?”

Sirius head snapped up. _Tonks_? That was…! His eyes traveled to the young woman in auror trainee uniform that had come in with Fudge. He hadn’t really given her a second thought, before. Tonks…

He shuffled over to the side of the cell closest to her. The chains around his ankles wouldn’t allow for wide steps. Then he leaned against the bars, held them tight in his hands. The metal was cool in his palms.

“Tonks… You’re Andy’s daughter.” He said. The woman already half on her way to open the door froze and stared at him. “You were eight, when I last saw you,” he said. “Do you remember me?”

_“Can you make a pig’s nose? Make a pig’s nose?” Sirius laughed lifting his cousin’s daughter up on his shoulders._

_She giggled. “How does a pig’s nose look?” She held tightly on to his hair, ripping a few strands. It hurt a little, and he knew she was destroying his style, but kids where the only people who were allowed to do that. Well, kids… and James. Out of necessity. James refused not to mess up his hair, and Sirius loved him too much to kill him to make him stop._

_“What you don’t know pigs? Didn’t you ever see a pig? Ted! Ted, come down here. You’re eight-year-old daughter never saw a pig!” He yelled up the staircase._

_Andromeda giggled from where she set in front of the chimney in the living room. “Sirius don’t scream like that! We’re in London. What do you think, where would she get to see a pig?”_

_Sirius looked at his cousin utterly scandalized. “Take her out of the city some. You can’t have her go to Hogwarts without knowing how to turn her nose into a pig’s snout.”_

_“Yes, Mama!” Dora yelled from his shoulders pulling again at his hair in a way that made Sirius wince. “I need to know how to turn into a pig!”_

_“Why would she need to know that?” Andromeda shook her head._

_“It would be a waste if she couldn’t! She’s a metamorphmagus. That’s the greatest party trick ever, and you’re denying her that by never showing her a pig!” He threw his hands up in mock frustration. “It’s unfair.”_

_“Yes, Mama,” Dora said after him, throwing her hands up too. “It’s unfair! I need to know that.”_

_“What nonsense are you teaching my daughter, Black?” Ted appeared at the top of the stairs, grinning widely at the picture before him._

_“Your daughter can’t turn her nose into a pig snout,” Sirius explained in a serious tone._

_“You can’t?” Ted asked his daughter._

_“No, dad, I don’t know how it looks. I only saw drawings of pigs, but that’s not enough.” She sounded dejected. “But Uncle Sirius is gonna teach me, right?”_

_“Right!”_

_“Damn… I guess we focused too much on the bunny ears, huh?” Ted muttered._

_Sirius laughed._

_“You two are the worst,” Andromeda declared, walking up to the living room door. “You’re turning my daughter into the class clown. I will have no part in it!” But Sirius saw her hide a grin as she pushed the door shut._

“Do you remember me?” he asked again in a more pressing tone, now. “Can you do the pig snout?” he heard himself ask sadly.

Dora stared at him. Her hair changed from the bright pink to a more subdued mouse grey.

“Tonks! Hurry, will you!” the minister bellowed.

Dora jumped. She stepped on the end of her own cloak and tripped, only catching herself against the door. “Sorry, sorry,” she muttered and pulled the door open.

“Ah, Minister Fudge,” a new witch joined the group in front of his cell. Curly pale blond hair and a heavy jaw. In the flickering light of the single torch lighting up the corridor, Sirius saw penciled eyebrows. Her glasses blinked oddly, and he took a moment to realize, that there was jewelry embedded into the frame. She seemed oddly familiar, but he couldn’t place her. “I was delighted to get your floo call. Is that him?”

She bowed forward to inspect Sirius closely like an animal in a zoo. Sirius backed away a little. He almost stumbled with the chains around his ankles.

“Yes, yes, that’s Black,” Fudge replied gleefully. “I’m glad we can finally close this chapter.” He had put on his minister-voice, Sirius realized. Who was this woman?

“Luitpold Degenhart,” the woman said, pointing to a young man with a long nose, that somehow reminded Sirius of Snivellus’ beak. However, it wasn’t the nose that made Sirius stare at the man. It was the unwieldy items he held in his hand. “You told me to bring a photographer, so I brought the best one the Daily Prophet has to offer. Louis, what do you think? Do we want the bars in the picture? To make it visibly clear, that he is caught again?”

She wasn’t really looking at her photographer instead, she was walking up and down the length of the cell to look for a good angle.

“Will the light be a problem?” Fudge asked. “Should we get more torches?”

“No, we’ll use our own lights,” Degenhart said setting up a big wooden tripod in front of the cell. He then took out the wand and immediately the entire cell area lit up bright white. Sirius stumbled back shielding his eyes. This time, he tripped over his chains and landed heavily on his tailbone. He hissed.

Fudge laughed. But Sirius had already jumped up to his feet again.

“Dora!” He cried out for his niece. “Dora, I promise, I’m innocent! Tell your mother, please. I—”

“ _Silencio_.”

His jaw worked, but no words came out. Sirius screamed in frustration but remained utterly silent.

“I like that despair,” the woman – Rita Skeeter he now recognized her – said with a gloating grin on her lips. “Can we get that again?”

Stunned, Sirius stared at her.

Fudge answered: “Oh of course, In fact, just when you knocked, I was about to share an idea I had with Mr. Black.”

Sirius glowered at the minister, who still held his wand pointed at Sirius from when he had spelled him mute.

“Ah, do I have your attention again, finally?” Fudge asked. “Very well. I was just about to tell you, that we’d love to find out, how you escaped from Azkaban, but then, I was thinking… Maybe it’s more important to make an example. What do you think, Black?”

Even if Sirius had anything to say to that, he couldn’t. He scoffed. What kind of example? Cut down his already mediocre provisions? They’d starve him to death. At this point he’d even welcome that to another twelve or more years in Azkaban. That was the problem when one already had the maximum sentence. No way to make it worse.

“So, I thought about bringing back a rather old punishment. In fact, I think it wasn’t used by the ministry since even before you were born.”

Anger at Fudge’s gleeful tone made him ignore what the Minister had just sad. But then just as he strolled up to the bars to try and spit him in the face, the meaning of Fudge’s words caught up to him.

And suddenly, instead of grabbing the bars to rattle at them, to glare at Fudge and wish him the plague and a painful death, now he needed the bars for support.

They couldn’t!

Please, no!

Not the Dementor’s Kiss.

“The Dementor’s Kiss…” Fudge announced happy like a child in a toy store. “What do you think, does that sound like a just punishment for escaping your sentence and making a fool of the ministry?” He strolled up to the bars, grinning down at him.

He was so close, Sirius could strangle him, but Sirius didn’t have the energy for that. All fight had drained out of him. And then he found himself on his knees. Hands still gripped around cold iron. And he couldn’t breathe.

His heart was hammering in his chest, his breath was hitching and stuck in his throat. His chest hurt. And there it was… The panic, that had been brewing in him since he first woke up here. It was choking him.

_Zzzz Pfaff!_

He violently flinched at the loud explosion of gun powder from the camera.

“Beautiful,” Degenhart praised his own work.

“Very nice,” Skeeter said. “I think we can hold the interview at a less dreary place?”

“Of course,” Fudge agreed, now casual. “After you, my dear. I really need to kick the Gamot, so they finally lift the ban on the Dementor’s Kiss.”

“So, it’s not decided, yet?” Skeeter sounded almost disappointed.

“Well, politics is a slow business. It will be soon enough.” He held the door for Skeeter and her photographer who had quickly put together the tripod, camera still mounted on top of it, and put out his magical lights. “Ah, before I forget it,” Fudge remembered absentmindedly. “ _Finite Incantatem_.” He flicked his wand into the air, and then closed the door behind them.

With the return of Sirius’ voice, ugly noises filled his cell. First, he thought he was crying, and he started wiping at his non-existent tears, but then he realized… He was laughing. _Why_ was he laughing again?

_Fuck! Stop laughing!_

But choked, panicked, barking giggles filled the entire cell block. His shoulders shook.

_Stop laughing!_

He bit down on his palm so hard it hurt.

And then his laughter was overtaken by blaring sirens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, when I started writing this story I decided to give Kakashi an adventure and Sirius a really bad time.... I'm so sorry, Sirius!
> 
> Also after I wrote this chapter I realized that it made little sense for there to still be so many people in the ministry after midnight. There are of course fare fewer than there would normally be, but I forgot that the ministry was essentially empty when Harry and his friends went there in the fifth book.... So let's just say, their was an abnormal number of people working overtime because of the hunt for Sirius and subsequent recapture? Does that make sense?
> 
> Kakashi here really gets to show some tricks that the magical world don't expect - like clones. I don't think the magical world has anythgn quite comparable. Good thing they know nothing of his skillset so he can essentially do what he wants. But what will Sirius think, if there are suddenly two Tonks's?
> 
> Btw. I really enjoyed bringing in Tonks. I didn't really think about it before, but of course she'd be involved in the hunt for Sirius - as canonically even the non-auror ministry workers were somehow involved. Tonks mother always was Sirius' favorite cousin, so surely, e must've known her as a kid... Really thinkin about it breaks my heart.....  
> I really let him suffer way too much.


	16. XVI

Gibson and Tonks were ready. Standing in dueling position in front of his cell, pointing their wands at the door.

“What’s going on?” Gibson asked. His voice was steady, unlike Dora’s when she answered.

“I don’t… an intruder? That’s the alarm for an intruder breaking through the…through the physical barriers. But how?” The tip of her wand shook a little. She was afraid. Her voice was a bit too fast, the words stumbling out of her mouth.

Sirius didn’t pay them much attention. He had finally stopped laughing, but now he cowered tired and afraid in the furthest corner away from them. If he had more energy, he would try to strike up a conversation with his niece…but there was nothing left. The sirens were giving him a headache.

They would give him the Dementor’s Kiss and that would be it. _A fate worse than death._

_Befitting for a traitor._ But he was no traitor. _Befitting for a fool?_

What had he thought, trying to escape from Azkaban?

But there was a part of him, that thought it might have been worth it. He hadn’t saved Harry of course. He hadn’t even seen him. He hadn’t killed Peter. He hadn’t achieved anything. But he _had_ experienced kindness again. He remembered the smell of rosemary and thyme and a young teenager preparing a meal for him.

Was that worth his soul? Because he _would_ pay for it with his soul, he was certain of that. Sooner or later, the Wizengamot would approve the motion. That congregation of old fools and sycophants had never done him any good. If they hadn’t approved it by tomorrow morning, they would soon enough. Maybe in a few months, or even a year. But they would eventually. And then he would be the first man in who knew how many years to get all cuddly close and personal with a dementor.

He would write history. The first fool to escape Azkaban. The first to be sentenced to the Dementor’s Kiss by the Wizengamot – disregarding Voldemort’s short reign of terror when he controlled the dementors – for at least fifty years…

_Bravo, Sirius. You made history. Your mother would be proud._

And still, there was a part of him, who thought it might have been almost worth it. He had traded his soul for two weeks of stumbling through English lessons and traveling the country and breaking the Statute of Secrecy with Kakashi. And really? That was better then what he had expected, when he had jumped into the ice-cold sea, convinced he would drown.

He had been _happy_. And maybe Kakashi would think of him as more than just a murderer.

And that was worth his soul, he thought. Because it was more than he could’ve hoped for three weeks ago.

Three weeks ago, he would’ve sacrificed his soul thrice over, just to experience a kind touch again, to hear a kind word again. To have somebody ruffle his fur, or feed him, or carry him on their back…

_A fate worse than death_ , he thought. But worse than death didn’t necessarily mean worse than life, did it?

If only he could have protected Harry. If only… He wondered whether James and Lily would be angry at him, if they would be disappointed, the way he was disappointed at himself. He thought about how to face them again… But then he remembered that he wouldn’t have to.

Without a soul, he wouldn’t be able to move on in death. He wouldn’t have to face anybody in death. He would just disappear. A shell without a soul… and then at some point not even that anymore. He would die in Azkaban, but he had known that before – with or without his soul. Did that even make a difference then? He remembered that the dead were buried right there on the island. Azkaban had its own graveyard.

An empty shell buried in Azkaban. A funeral with only dementor’s in attendance. Wasn’t that what he had been all along? Wasn’t that his life for the last dozen years, anyway?

What a waste of a life…

What would be the last thing, he would see before having his soul sucked out?

For a moment, he imagined the marauders and a full moon. The howling of a wolf. A child with a dog plush in a crib. A pair of sparkling green eyes. The greatest chaser Gryffindor had ever seen. The smell of rosemary and thyme, and a grey-haired boy with a single eye smiling at him…

But then he remembered that that would be impossible. By the time the dementors would suck out his soul, they would have already taken all the good memories. That and any other memory as well. And then he knew, what the last thing he’d see in his life would be. He could imagine it already, because he had seen it – one way or the other – almost every day for 12 years.

James thrown away and hanging in the banisters of the stairs in his house. Lily’s wide and lifeless green eyes. A street full of blood and the traitor laughing in his face. The taste of failure on his tongue.

**BANG**

The door burst open. Sirius flinched, turned towards the door out to the corridor. Two people stood there. He didn’t know one of them, but the other…

“Tonks?” Gibson asked in confusion.

“I’m here!” Tonks yelled from behind him. “It’s poly—” but before she could finish the sentence or do anything else, one of the two intruders suddenly appeared in front of her – how was he apparating? Apparating in the ministry was impossible! – And smashed a fist into her belly and then chopped her with a flat hand into the neck. It was so quick, neither Sirius nor Gibson could do anything against it.

“Tonks!” Gibson yelled out.

“Dora!” screamed Sirius, jumping up to run to her, but his feet were chained together, and he fell flat on his belly, hitting his chin against the ground and biting his tongue. The cell wasn’t very big, though, so he dragged bound hand forward, gripped the bars and pulled himself closer.

“Stop, Black!” Gibson cried, but he didn’t dare take the wand away from the two intruders. “ _Stu_ —” he yelled out, but the rest of his curse died in an ugly gurgling sound before Gibson collapsed as well.

With trembling hands, Sirius stretched his arms through the bars and grabbed onto Dora’s cloak. He pulled her closer. With a quiet sound, her wand rolled away from her, and away from the bars until it stopped when it hit Gibson’s boot. Sirius could’ve stretched a bit further and caught it, but he didn’t even see it. His attention was focused on Dora’s still body. He pressed his fingers against her wrist, not finding a pulse, but his fingers were trembling so hard, he couldn’t be sure. He moved them to her throat.

“She’s just unconscious,” the other Tonks said, walking up to the bars, as the man took up position next to the door leading into the corridor. “You know her?”

Sirius didn’t answer. Who was that? It had to be somebody using Polyjuice, but why? What did they want from him? Not once, after the sirens had started, had Sirius even considered that it might have anything to do with him.

“What do you want from me?” he asked as fake-Tonks inspected the lock to his cell. For a moment, he considered if fake-Tonks wanted to kill him next.

She might have said that Dora wasn’t dead, but she looked dead to Sirius, and he still couldn’t find the pulse. Oh god… If he was the reason his niece had died…Andy and Ted would never forgive him!

_“Can you do a pig snout?”_

_“What nonsense are you teaching my daughter, Black?”_

_“But Uncle Sirius is gonna teach me, right?”_

Oh, Godric…

“We’re getting out of here.”

In his panic, Sirius almost missed fake-Tonks’ answer.

“We should hurry,” the stranger continued, “I don’t want them to find the bodies outside, while we’re still here.”

Fake-Tonks looked up from the lock to look at Sirius, frowning at the chains. Then she turned back to the cell door. “I’ve never seen such a mechanism. Where’s the keyhole?”

_Alohomora,_ Sirius thought, _from a ministry approved wand._

Dora’s wand was still in reach for him, but he didn’t even see it. He didn’t answer.

A bright light, the flickering of shadows and the chirping sound of a thousand birds. The lock broke open. The stranger just put her hand through it, and an odd lightning like energy smashed right through.

_I’ve heard that sound before._

But that was impossible. Dora was still… unconscious—fake-Tonks had said unconscious—and he could hear Gibson’s gurgling breaths. And what with the ‘bodies outside’?

“What do you want?” he repeated, unable to form a single coherent thought. Because the only thought that came into his head, was absurd and impossible. _This_ was _not_ Kakashi!

“I told you, I’d get you out of here,” fake-Tonks said again, now kneeling before him, still with that odd energy in her hand. Lightning. It cut through the chains on Sirius’ ankles like butter. “Your hands,” she demanded.

Sirius didn’t move. “Who are you?” he asked.

Fake-Tonks didn’t seem concerned with his lack of cooperation. She grabbed for his chains with one hand, held it up and then snapped it in two.

He was free, Sirius noted dazed. The cuffs were still around his ankles and wrist but the chains were broken, and the door was open, and his guards were…were… If the stranger meant it, that she was here to safe him… she was clearly doing it… but…

Sirius pushed fake-Tonks aside. He stumbled to his feet and bolted out of the door. But instead of running for the corridor and towards freedom – though he had no idea how to get out of the ministry yet – where the unknown man had taken up position, he turned around towards Dora. He came to a skidding halt, crashing to his knees beside her.

He pressed his ear against her chest. There! Unmistakably, there was a pulse.

“I told you, she’s unconscious,” fake-Tonks said, standing in the door to the cell. “We need to leave.”

But Sirius made no move to leave. Instead he twisted around towards Gibson, who was slumped against the wall.

Gibson had his hands gripped around his neck, but as he lost consciousness, his hands had sacked down, now resting in his lap. His face was purple-ish and his neck had swollen. Sirius pulled Gibson away from the wall, laid him out straight on the ground and pressed his ear against his chest.

He thought he could hear something, though it was unsteady. “It’s only very weak,” he said to nobody in particular. He moved to the auror’s face and tried to catch the sound of his breathing. “I don’t think he’s breathing.” His voice trembled. Feebly his hands pressed down on Gibson’s chest.

1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8.

“I crushed his windpipe,” fake-Tonks said, “I’m sure of it.” She said it in a flat affect, as if there was nothing wrong with the sentence.

“ **Who are you?** ” Sirius screamed at her.

9-10-11-12-13-14-15.

He pressed down on Gibson’s chest again and again, using his bodyweight to get some leverage. The auror’s body was much heavier than his own malnourished one, but it rocked with every time Sirius pressed down on his sternum.

16-17-18-19-20.

“Oh, right,” fake-Tonks said. There was a small poof, and Sirius noted out of the corner of his eye, that something had shifted, but he was too focused on Gibson to see it.

21-22-23-24-25.

He quickly glanced to fake-Tonks—

And froze.

“No…”

There, standing before him, with his typical bored look, was Kakashi. That couldn’t be true. Kakashi was kind and…and a child! But this person— This person standing before him was a killer. He had seen it. He had heard it, the flat affect in his voice.

“Don’t sell me for a fool,” he bit out through clenched teeth, desperate for this not to be true. This couldn’t possibly be true!

He realized he had missed a beat, and he quickly turned back to Gibson.

26-27-28-29-30.

Kakashi walked up to him, grabbing his shoulder, just as Sirius shuffled on his knees to reach Gibson’s mouth so he could breath for him.

1.

“His windpipe is crushed,” Kakashi said, “that won’t help.”

“Shut up!” Sirius ordered between breaths.

2.

He made a sudden motion with his arm, shaking Kakashi’s hold away from him.

“Get away from me!”

He heard Kakashi retreat. It wasn’t far enough. This fake-Kakashi. As fake as fake-Tonks had been!

He moved back to pump Gibson’s chest.

“We need to go,” Kakashi stressed now from a safe two step distance.

“I can’t go!” Sirius spoke louder then intended. “Not like this. He’ll die if I leave.”

“He’ll die anyway,” Kakashi was too calm about it. “And they’ll send you back to Azkaban.”

_The Dementor’s Kiss,_ he thought. But he couldn’t leave. Not like this.

“What are you even doing here?” He asked “ _Why_?” There were tears in his eyes now. He slammed his fist against Gibson’s chest as he reached 30 again. Sirius knew he was losing him.

He glared angrily at Kakashi. “Why did you come? Fuck!”

“I told you,” Kakashi said. His eyes were round circles. There was confusion in them and hurt. Them… Two eyes.

The other eye, the one he had normally covered was open now. As wide as the other. It wasn’t gone, Sirius thought dejectedly. Kakashi had said it was gone. Instead it glimmered in the light of the fire, shone a bright, gleaming red. There seemed a sort of pattern in it, but Sirius couldn’t be sure in the bad light.

“I don’t let my comrades die.”

Sirius remembered then. Before Kakashi had even known, who he was, he had ruffled the dog’s fur:

_“I don’t let my friends die.”_

Sirius snorted but he didn’t feel amusement. Fake-Kakashi indeed. The real Kakashi had called him a friend. This one used the word _comrade_. Like they were soldiers fighting a war. Sirius had fought a war, alright. But Kakashi hadn’t been a comrade in that war. Alaric Gibson, the guy whose life was currently running through his hands, he’d been a comrade in the war! They’d joined the auror office together.

“I don’t even know who you are,” Sirius mumbled not even looking at Kakashi. He was again bending down to breath for Gibson.

1-2.

He had blood on his lips, from where it came up Gibson’s throat.

A hard hand gripped around his shoulder. “You need to go.” Kakashi’s voice was hard now. Not leaving any room for an argument. Sirius rammed his elbow back. Kakashi either expected it, or he just had good reflexes, because he easily caught it. He grabbed the arm and pulled Sirius up.

“Let me go!” Sirius cried out. “I can’t leave him.” He fought, but Kakashi relentlessly dragged him backwards.

“I won’t let my comrades die,” he said again. Said it like a mantra.

“I don’t _fucking_ care!” Sirius yelled. “You shouldn’t have come. He’s my friend!” Friend was maybe a bit much… But he’d been Lily’s friend. That was enough.

“I’m sorry,” Kakashi said and he sounded like it.

But Sirius didn’t really care about him _sounding_ sorry and _looking_ hurt. Who did that? Who just ran around killing people?!

“I don’t care!” Sirius bellowed seething with anger. “Get away from me! Don’t _touch_ me!” And this time, as he tried to get away, he ripped free of Kakashi’s hold.

“I’m sorry,” Kakashi said again. He sounded confused, but he turned and knelt next to Gibson. His hand moved along his body, then it stopped at his neck. There was a soft green glow coming from his fingers.

“What are you doing?” Sirius asked suspiciously, ready to walk up to Kakashi and stop him, but he was held back by the man behind him. For the first time in a while, he looked back at the man. “And who are you, huh? A friend of Kakashi? And I thought you were all alone,” he mocked. He glared back at the boy. “You made a fool out of me, didn’t you?”

“I’m not good at healing,” Kakashi said, ignoring the other things Sirius had said. “But I’ll try my best. Just… please, let me take care of this, and you go!”

Sirius was inclined to do it. To let Kakashi stay here with his mess and leave. He didn’t really want to be close to Kakashi right now. However, there was a part of him, that feared that ‘taking care of this’ meant killing Gibson.

“If he dies,” Sirius warned. “I’ll never forgive you. Do you hear me? I’ll hunt you down, and if it’s the last thing I’ll do.”

With what he had seen of Kakashi’s skills just in the last 15 minutes, it might very well be the last thing he would do. But it wasn’t like he had any other use for his life. He was already on a path to revenge and scheduled for a date with a Dementor. Among the options he had, dying via crushed windpipe didn’t seem the worst.

Kakashi looked at him, then he nodded. There was regret on his face. “I’m sorry,” he said again. The third time now, Sirius had counted. “Keep him safe.”

Sirius was confused at first, what Kakashi meant, then he realized, he was talking to the stranger in the room. Sirius still didn’t have a name. Before he could ask another question or reconsider his options, however, the stranger, grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out of the room.

Bodies outside, Sirius remembered. Where they dead? There were two people slumped next to the door. He was about to ask, about to rip himself free from the stranger, when a hard punch against his temple jerked his head sideways. His body slumped down. The stranger had hit him!

For a moment he thought he smelled rosemary and thyme. And then he was out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so sorry!  
> There were so many of you writing in the comments that you wanted them to get back together and continue their road trip. And mean while I was sitting there answering all your comments, knowing that wouldn't happen! i'm so sorry.  
> So yeah, this seperation between Sirius and Kakashi is (for now) permanent. They will each have to make their way to Hogwarts alone.  
> Also I feel like every time I write Sirius, I write HEAVY ANGST. The next few chapters will be very Kakashi heavy. I will sprinkle chapters with Sirius in every here and there, but after this chaper, the focus will be very much on Kakashi. (Starting next chapter, Harry will come in as a third PoV, I hope that will work as well as the other two.)


	17. XVII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh it's already wednesday.  
> It's actually my birthday today. Woohoo.........ooh I'm getting old.  
> As a gift to myself...or to you, I don't know... Here, just take the chapter!  
> I hope you like it.

Kakashi felt the lingering effects of chakra exhaustion weighing down his eye lids. The earth jutsu, the clones, the genjutsu and the Raikiri had cost two thirds of his chakra, and whatever he had left he was now pouring through his hand into a dying man’s throat.

It wasn’t the first time he regretted that he had no talent in medical ninjutsu. He knew some basic first aid, but Rin had been their squad medic.

Rin… He tried to shake off his memories of her. That wouldn’t help him now. It would only distract him from what he had to do.

Damn it. Desperately he used more of his chakra.

Why had he attacked the way he had? He hadn’t known! He should’ve gathered more intel before blindly barging in and hurting good men and women… Sirius’ friends… No wonder the man was angry! If this auror died, there was no way, Sirius would ever forgive him. And why should he? Kakashi would’ve murdered his friend.

Obito’s eye was itching again. It hadn’t itched ever since he came to this world. Furiously, he pushed the bandages down to hide it again before he returned to his rudimentary healing. In his head, he tried to think if there was anything in his med kit, that could help in this situation, but he came up empty. So, all he could do was pour more chakra into an irreparably crushed throat.

He knew, there was nothing he could do. If he had Tsunade’s skills, sure, he could safe him. Surely. But Kakashi didn’t have healing hands. His hands could only kill. Kill his enemies…Kill his friends.

_Kakashi!_

_Rin was staring at him. His hand was red with her blood._

_“He’s my friend! If he dies, I’ll never forgive you!”_

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into his mask.

_“I’ll hunt you down!”_

And he knew Sirius would. He had seen it in his eyes.

In this world, without war, Kakashi could bring only destruction. He’d known this… But he thought he could control himself, pull himself together. _Idiot_!

_Have you learned nothing?_

He could feel the life slipping from the body in front of him. He couldn’t let him die!

“HELP!” He screamed. His voice was higher than it would normally be, trying to make himself heart. “HELP! There’s somebody injured! Please!”

He had to hope that this magic could heal too. And why shouldn’t it do that? Sirius had said it could do everything. It was the only chance, Kakashi had left. His own medical ninjutsu was pathetic. His chakra was running lower and lower and he didn’t even know if he made it better or worse. The only option he had left, was to hope that magic could heal this man.

He thought it was futile. There was a rational part in his mind – a part that could think logical even in the worst situations – that told him, that the man was lost. Basically already dead. His heart was still beating, weakly, but he wouldn’t have gotten any oxygen for minutes now. Kakashi pushed that thought aside, though. Magic! Maybe magic could help.

He yelled for help again.

A sudden rush of memories overcame him. He remembered crawling through a dark and tight tunnel, through wet earth. He remembered dragging a body with him. Then the moldy stench of the sewer system. He remembered collapsing the tunnel. Then quickly carrying Sirius on his back until the distance to the original body became too far. The clone had put Sirius down, patted him on his cheek, and then dissolved the second grey eyes opened, blinking in confusion.

A wave of exhaustion hit Kakashi, then.

Still, the clone’s memories were enough of a wake-up-call, to smother his rising panic about the fate of the man in front of him. Sirius was safe! It took a weight off his shoulders, and he was able to think more clearly again.

The witch, he remembered. With a burst of chakra, he jolted her awake.

“WHAT?” She yelped with a lout cry. Kakashi jumped at her violent awakening. Confused and disoriented, she looked around. Kakashi hadn’t gone through the effort of transforming again, but he was still turned away from her, focusing on the other auror, so she only saw his back.

“Where is Black?” she asked, but then she saw the unconscious, dying auror. “Is that… Merlin, Alaric!”

“Can you help him?” Kakashi asked moving away when she came crawling towards them.

Tonks’ hands feebly moved over her colleague’s body. “I don’t…”

Kakashi felt sympathy for her – he knew how it was to lose his comrade – but he needed her to focus.

“Can you use magic to heal him?” he asked more forcefully.

Tonks didn’t even look at him. She started frantically searching her pockets. Kakashi knew what she was searching for before she asked. He knelt to pick up her wand that was stuck under Gibson’s thigh. He held it out for her to take.

“Where is my—” She saw the wand. “Ah thank you.” She dragged her hands through her hair, then she pointed the tip of her wand at the auror and whispered something in a language that wasn’t English.

A blue beam of light shot out from her wand and hit the auror’s chest area. Kakashi didn’t know if it was doing anything. Nothing seemed to change for Kakashi.

“We need help,” Tonks said. “Get help—” She stopped, and half-turned to him. “Who are you?” But Kakashi was already gone.

Outside, he was about to turn into the minister – one final transformation – to call for help, when he heard steps trample down the stairs. He quickly hid, before he was seen.

“Bloody hell, what happened here?” Somebody yelled out, as they found the two aurors Kakashi had dropped earlier. He didn’t think any of them had died from his attack. “Quick! Call the healers!”

“Check for Black!” he heard the minister’s hysteric voice. “I will not let Black escape again!”

A group of three people rushed past Kakashi wands raised. They burst through the door into the cellblock.

“He’s gone,” one said. “Where the fuck did he go?”

“Tonks!” another yelled out. “What happ—Is that Alaric?”

“We need somebody down here. Alaric is injured!” A witch screamed back into the corridor.

“Where is Black?” he heard the Minister ask, still with the two unconscious aurors. “Is Black still—”

“He’s gone, Fudge. Almost killed Gibson. We need to hurry.” The witch responded.

Kakashi chewed on his lip. They thought Sirius had done that. He’d just wanted to help Sirius. Instead he had very likely killed Sirius’ friend and made the ministry think, he’d committed the murder.

He balled his fists. He felt Obito’s eye itching. He had to get out of here.

Kakashi didn’t dare tunnel through to the surface again. He had managed to get in that way, and the clone had fled with Sirius using the same method undetected. They knew he had physically broken through the wall, but as he listened in on them, he heard, that they weren’t at all sure how he had done that. The idea, that somebody might have dug a tunnel all the way from the surface, didn’t really come to them. Instead they threw around theories about ‘apparating’ just outside the barrier bans into a pocket of soft earth or maybe a prepared cave and then exploding through the walls.

Kakashi realized both that he likely wouldn’t be able to do that again, if he had to break into the ministry a second time – as they were already talking about updating their bans – and that he’d have to find a different way to escape. The fact that they didn’t even consider the idea that somebody had dug a tunnel, meant they wouldn’t figure out, that Sirius Black had fled over the London sewer system. If Kakashi used the same method to flee, he risked just one more opportunity for them to figure it out.

So instead, he stayed in the ministry for hours, until it was 7 am in the morning and the ministry employees came to work. In the sudden rush of people, it was surprisingly easy to escape. The process of stepping into a burning furnace with the writing ‘visitor’s exit’ above was still rather unsettling.

He found himself back in the phonebooth, thoroughly confused. Somebody was knocking at the dirty and cracked glass.

“Hurry a little, boy. You’re not the only one with an appointment.” He stared at a woman with a striped pajama shirt, and sunglasses.

Why was she wearing pajamas and sunglasses at 7 in the morning? The sun hadn’t really gone up yet. Shaking his head about the witch’s odd fashion sense, he exited the telephone booth and quickly left for the Leaky Caldron.

He snuck back into his room through the window and fell on his bed tiredly. Chakra exhaustion was dragging him down. He wasn’t quite at his limit, but close enough, and hiding for hours in an unknown place from wizards with unknown powers had been tiring as well, even if he hadn’t used a lot of chakra, then.

Hopefully, the auror would be okay, he thought, just as he slipped into restless sleep.

***** 

Harry ate breakfast at nine. Tom was scurrying around him, asking him if he needed more eggs, bacon, butterbeer, pumpkin choose, apples…

Harry knew he was famous, so he wasn’t really surprised, nor was it the first time that people were doting on him like that, but he never liked it. Never mind that having to go from being treated as a disliked and unwelcome servant in Privet Drive, to the famous, very much welcome, and admired _Boy Who Lived_ was still a jarring experience for him. He would never get used to that he knew. Why couldn’t people just treat him like a normal boy?

“Toast?” Tom asked lifting a basket of bread in his face. Harry shook his head irritated. “Olives? Fried doxy legs?”

Ugh…

“No, thanks.” He pushed the plate with the fried doxy legs away. “I have everything.” Demonstratively he picked up a big spoon full of beans and shoved it in his mouth. “Yumm,” he hummed even though they tasted slightly gooey.

Tom limped away but Harry had no doubt, he’d be back in a few minutes, offering Dragon Tongue Sausage and Grindeloh-Blood-Soup…or some inedible thing like that. Harry quickly shoveled the rest of his mundane English beans and egg with bacon and toast in his mouth and left back to his room before Tom would inevitably ruin his apatite with some of his exotic magical specialties.

He longingly thought back to the last few days of last year’s summer holidays. His best friend, Ron and his brothers had rescued him from the Dursleys, and he had spent the rest of the holidays with the Weasleys. Molly’s cooking had been amazing. Of course, she had also doted on him, but it was different to Tom’s doting. Molly had treated him like her own son. A way too thin and underfed son – granted – who needed to add at least five pounds in fewer days, so she felt satisfied that he would survive the journey to Hogwarts without dying of hunger… but still. He’d rather liked it, even if he’d been embarrassed. Harry never had a mother, and he thought that was how it would feel.

As he opened the door to room 11, he brushed the memory aside. There was no point longing for what he couldn’t have now. Instead he should enjoy what he had. Sure, Tom’s doting was a little annoying, but all in all, Harry had every reason to be grateful. This time in the Leaky Cauldron could be fun. After all, he still had almost an entire month to the start of the new school year and no Dursleys around to tell him what to do. From his room he could look straight down into Diagon Alley and he had three weeks to do whatever he wanted. He didn’t get punished, nor expelled from school and so far, he hadn’t found Voldemort hiding in his wardrobe to kill him in his sleep.

Actually – now that he reconsidered – this could turn into the time of his life.

He let the door fall shut behind him. Taking a two-step run-up, he dove into the bed. A bit of dust puffed into the air and the coverings smelled of moths, but the mattress was soft and warm. Harry giggled and listened. In Privet Drive Vernon or Petunia would burst into his room just about now, to ask him about the ruckus he was creating in the morning. Instead all he heard was the noise of businesses opening down in Diagon Alley, and a kid crying in a room above him somewhere.

Lazily he turned on his back and watched the cobwebs over the bed. He couldn’t find many spiders, but the entire ceiling was covered. A few flies were stuck there long dead.

Eventually, with a loud sigh, Harry raised himself again, to unpack his suitcase. He had started with that during the night already, but then he’d become tired and left most of the clothes just strewn around. He wanted to put them into the wardrobe, but he found a giant spider there. Harry wasn’t Ron. He wasn’t afraid of spiders, but this one was almost as big as his elbow. He didn’t fancy having to look at it, every time he opened the wardrobe, so he put his clothe back in the trunk and tied one of his red and gold Gryffindor scarfs around the handles of the wardrobe to make sure, the spider couldn’t push the door open and get out in his sleep. He also made sure to tightly shut his trunk again. He had no desire for any of the vermin to crawl into it.

He was distracted by the sound of something knocking against glass.

“Hedwig!” He cried out happily. He had worried if she would find him here, but of course, Hedwig was a smart owl. “I’ve missed you.” He opened the window, then set up the bird cage on the side of his desk and opened it for Hedwig to enter. The great snowy owl hooted, poked at the bars and then sat on the perch with a haughty little nod of her head. “Here.” He fed her some owl treats.

_Oh right._

He had almost forgotten Charlie’s odd visit that night. Did he still want to ask the minister about getting to Hogwarts? Probably, Harry thought. It would be pretty great, to have a Hogwarts friend living so close to him. Horley really wasn’t far away. And as for Charlie…

Well, no wonder he really wanted to go to Hogwarts. It was the best that had ever happened to Harry, and in this case, that wasn’t just because his time with the Dursleys was horror. He knew for a fact, that even kids from nice families looked forward to getting to Hogwarts. Hermione was a muggleborn witch like Charlie, and she loved Hogwarts. Then again… Hermione was Hermione and Hogwarts was, well, a _school_. Of course, Hermione loved it.

Hedwig still looked a little tired from a long flight. He wanted to give her at least an hour or so to rest, but he could still tell Charlie that she was back.

“I’ll be right back,” he told Hedwig. “Rest a little. I might need you later.” He took his keys and left his room.

Fudge said, Charlie would be in room 14. That was just opposite his room, with the window out towards muggle London.

Harry knocked. Charlie might still be asleep, Harry mused. He hadn’t seen him at breakfast. Then again it was already past ten. When there was no response from the inside, Harry testily put his hand against the handle.

Surprised, he realized that the door was open.

“It’s me: Harry,” he announced himself as he came in. “I come in.” Harry didn’t feel bad about bursting in. After all, Charlie had done that too – and maybe sharing a dorm room with four other boys had made Harry a little apathetic against such intrusions of privacy. Who knew… If Charlie was put into Gryffindor, they might share a room as well. He seemed about his age.

Harry stepped into the room, but then he stopped short. It was empty. Confused he looked around. The bed looked used, but that aside, there was no sign of anybody living in the room. He couldn’t even find Charlie’s shoes anywhere. The room was a bit smaller than his own, and there was no big wardrobe – though admittedly Harry could’ve forgone the wardrobe and the giant spider in it, as well. The window was open, and the curtains blowing softly in the wind.

“Mah…” A sigh came from behind the door, then Charlie slouched out of his hideout. If he had meant to surprise Harry, he was doing a bad job. His shuffling steps and the loud sigh made it obvious where he was before he showed himself.

Charlie scratched the back of his head, disheveling his brown hair in a way that it looked almost as wild as Harry’s own. He was fully dressed, even with shoes, wearing the same hoodie he had worn the day before. His mattress creaked as he sat down on it.

Harry looked behind the door, to see what Charlie had been doing there – if he clearly hadn’t meant to give Harry a scare – but there was nothing there. Just the blank wall and the same cobwebs he could find in his own room.

“What were you doing there?” Harry asked.

Charlie shrugged with one shoulder. He didn’t answer. Harry let it pass.

“Anyway, do you still want to write to the ministry? Hedwig,” Harry interrupted himself, “uh… you know, my owl? I told you.”

He waited for a reply, but Charlie just looked at him with a blank stare. He looked tired, Harry thought. Harry couldn’t really place how he knew that the other boy was tired. There were no bags under his eyes, but he still looked exhausted. The way he had slouched as he moved, the shuffled steps… His eyes were drooping a little. Well, it had been past midnight when Charlie burst into his room that night… Then again, it wasn’t exactly early morning.

“Anyway, my owl is back now. So, if you want to write that letter…” He was about to just leave again. The way Charlie stared at him was unsettling. Yesterday, they had gotten along just fine, but now Harry wasn’t so sure if he wanted to be friends with this guy. He was almost a bit creepy. “Uhm… Hedwig needs to rest now, but, just…tell me, if you…”

“Do you have something to write?” Charlie asked.

Harry sputtered when the boy finally spoke. He was immediately relieved. Having to lead the conversation all on his own wasn’t his forte. “Yes, of course, just…” He turned towards his own room and was surprised when Charlie stood up and followed him. “You can just wait…” he stopped when he caught the other boy’s eyes. “Never mind, just… you can write the letter in my room, I guess.” Charlie gave a slow nod.

Harry nodded as well, not knowing what else to do. There was just something about Charlie. He didn’t speak much. First Harry had thought that it was because of the accent, that he might not feel comfortable speaking English – or wasn’t very good at English – but something told him, that wasn’t the reason for Charlie’s silence. He seemed lazy, every step he took exuded an overt laziness – from the slouch to his slow drawl to the droopy eyes – yet something told him the other boy watched every step he made.

He opened the door to his room and stepped aside to let Charlie in. “Okay, come in. Um, the desk is over there, let me just…” He hurried to his suitcase and picked out a quill, ink, and a piece of parchment. He hesitated. “You know how to use that?” Harry asked uncertainly.

Harry hadn’t worked with quills ever, before coming to Hogwarts. He’d left a right mess on most of his homework for the first semester. Professor Snape had dutifully subtracted points from all his work just for that, even when he had Hermione check it over to make sure it was correct.

Charlie gave him a considering look, but then he nodded.

“Oh, great.” Harry handed the stuff over. “I didn’t when I first got to Hogwarts.” He laughed embarrassed. “I still prefer pens.” He made a gesture as if holding a pen. “They are just more convenient, you know?”

He had the odd sense that Charlie thought, he talked to much, but Charlie never said anything, and Harry felt like he had to fill the silence. Instead of complaining about Harry’s monologue, Charlie dipped the tip into the inkwell and…hesitated.

Harry could sympathize. He wouldn’t know how to start a letter to the ministry. He still wasn’t even used to writing to his friends, and always fretted over the lines. Writing to the ministry… “I’ll just leave you to it,” Harry said. “Take your time.”

He sat on his bed and picked up one of his old history of magic books. Those he thought, were the most interesting. Shame, that Professor Binns regularly made him fall asleep during class. He didn’t remember anything from last year and still didn’t know how he had passed the test.

After reading about the Goblin Wars for a quarter of an hour, he looked up to see if Charlie had written anything. He found the boy looking at him.

“Are you done?” he asked standing up, but already as soon as he stood and could see the parchment in front of Charlie, he realized the boy hadn’t even written a word yet. Harry frowned confused.

“You didn’t write anything yet?” He shook his head. “Just start with ‘Dear Minister Fudge’ if you really want to write to the minister himself. Or maybe ‘Dear Sir or Madam’ if you want to keep it more…vague.” He shrugged.

Charlie nodded, as if he had only waited for that information. He turned towards his parchment, dipped he quill into the ink and started writing. Harry looked over his shoulders. He still doubted Charlie’s skill with the quill. But, as the other boy put the tip down for the first letter, Harry was stunned. The script was neat and tidy, leaving no unwanted spots or smears. Even more than that, Kakashi had an almost artistic way of using the quill. He seemed to make conscious decisions about when to make broader strokes and when to make the lines as thin as hair.

Harry was a little jealous, but at least he understood now, how the boy had learned to write with a quill.

“Could’ve told me you’re taking calligraphy classes,” Harry muttered. “I really embarrassed myself when I doubted your skill, huh?” He followed each stroke of the quill with fascination. Something was odd though. The writing looked like the font was copied from a regular newspaper. Neat, tidy, each letters the same height. “Do you write in Times New Roman?” Harry laughed.

“What?” Charlie asked with a confused frown.

“Never mind, it’s just funny. You’re like a typewriter. Anyway, you made a mistake there.” He pointed at Charlie’s first word.

Normally, he wouldn’t bother pointing out spelling mistakes, but it would be embarrassing for all parties involved, if Charlie sent a letter to the Minister, and the very first word was already misspelled. Charlie looked at where Harry was pointing, but he didn’t seem to find the issue. Harry frowned worried.

“Dear,” he explained. “It’s written with EA not with EE. Deer, with EE is an animal.” Charlie looked at him blankly. “Like a stag.” There was still no recognition in his eyes. Harry put his hand over his head to form antlers. “Forest animals with antlers, you know?”

“Ah,” Charlie finally understood. He quickly dipped the quill into the ink and then to Harry’s utter shock, he sketched out a stag on the parchment. It was simple sketch, without any shadows or anything, but it looked great. Charlie hit the proportions spot on. Each stroke with the quill was certain and confident. With a _quill_ , no less.

“Wow,” Harry was stunned. “That’s awesome. You’re really good. Yes, that’s a stag.” He took the drawing from Charlie. “Can I keep that?” He didn’t really expect Charlie to agree. It was a great drawing, and to Harry, it immediately seemed valuable. He could never draw something like that. But Charlie only gave a casual shrug.

He took a fresh parchment and started again. ‘Dear Minister Fudge’. This time he wrote it correctly.

“Comma,” Harry said. However, this simple word seemed to throw Kakashi off completely. Didn’t he know what a comma was? “You know,” Harry said, he made a quick motion as if writing a comma.

Charlie understood immediately. He put the comma down where it belonged. Clearly, he had seen commas before. Did he just not know the word, then?

“Where are you from?” Harry asked, because now he was increasingly certain, that the accent wasn’t just an odd manner of speech. Charlie must have grown up somewhere else. He clearly could write and knew the letters, and knew how to hold a quill, but he obviously never wrote anything in English before.

Just a few minutes ago, Harry had been jealous at the neat writing style, thinking of how Snape wouldn’t distract any points from him for ‘untidy scrawling’. However, Harry was very certain, that Snape would subtract points for bad spelling.

“Horley,” Charlie answered automatically.

“No, I mean before that. Before you came to Horley? What kind of accent is that? I’ve never heard it before.”

Charlie was just about to answer. Then he stopped himself and smiled mysteriously. “Take a guess.”

Harry was surprised, but he took it as a good challenge. He thought for a moment. “Well, I don’t think it’s an English dialect,” he started, because if it was just a dialect, that wouldn’t excuse Charlie’s bad spelling. “So not Australia, or America, Canada or New Zealand. And I’ve never heard it before. So, I don’t think it’s a Indian, German, French or Russian accent.”

Charlie was watching him closely as Harry thought out loud. Almost as if he was learning something new from everything Harry said. It was funny, Harry thought, to have somebody listen so closely.

“Your name is Charlie Major, though.” He scratched his head. “That’s a pretty English name. I’m thinking, maybe a former colony?” Charlie hesitated, as if he had to think about this too. Then he gave a lazy nod. “But you’re pretty… well, pasty.” He indicated his own skin. Former colony with many white people still living there with English names, who don’t necessarily grow up with English as their first language and an accent that Harry didn’t know? Harry shrugged. “South Africa?”

“Not bad,” Charlie smiled.

“Am I right? South Africa? That’s pretty cool! From where there?”

Charlie apparently hadn’t expected the question. He took a long time to answer, as if he had to think about it. “Johannesburg,” he finally said.

“Oh wow,” Harry who had never been outside the United Kingdom exclaimed. “That’s pretty cool. But it’s huge, isn’t it? Did you like it there?”

“I don’t like to talk about it,” Charlie said immediately.

Disappointed, Harry wiped the grin off his face. Apparently, Charlie had made bad experiences back home. Harry still would have like to know more. Then again, he didn’t know what had happened. He wouldn’t want to tell somebody he barely knew about his parents either.

Of course, in Harry’s case, there was no need to tell anybody. They all knew anyway. The thought made him feel bitter.

“So, you and your parents moved from Johannesburg to Horley of all places?” He asked to change the topic. “That must be boring.” Granted, Horley wasn’t far from London. But still… Johannesburg to Horley sounded like a massive downgrade.

“Just me,” Charlie replied.

Harry sputtered. “Just you? What do you mean just you? You live alone? But you have to live with somebody. Never mind why would you move to a different continent all alone. How old are you?”

“Fourteen,” Charlie answered after a while, completely ignoring all the other questions.

“Fourteen,” Harry repeated. “Yeah that sounds about right. You’re just a kid. Why do you live alone?”

Charlie scowled. “Things happened. I really need to write this letter.”

Again, one of the things he didn’t want to talk about, Harry guessed. Harry felt like navigating a mine field. He sighed. “Do you want me to write it? You could dictate it to me. But—"

Charlie immediately jumped up, pressing the quill into Harry’s hands.

“But,” Harry continued a little irritated catching the quill, “I don’t have such a nice handwriting.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Charlie smiled at him. “Thanks.”

“Dear Minister Fudge,” he started and Harry in his blotchy writing hurried to keep up, “this is Harry Potter writing to you—”

“Harry Potter?” Harry asked with a somewhat angry frown. “Why make it about me, suddenly?”

“Well, you’re writing,” Charlie said like a smartass, “aren’t you? I mean wouldn’t it be a lie, if you wrote to the Minister that you were me?”

It would be a logical argument if Charlie weren’t dictating every word to him. Harry was just writing down Charlie’s words. He wanted to argue the point, but was distracted when Charlie pointed at the parchment, where Harry had already written down his first name before had even noticed where it was going.

“And you already wrote it anyway. I’d hate to start all over again.”

Harry sighed. He knew exactly that Charlie only used his name, because the minister would be more inclined to listen to _Harry Potter_. Then again, Harry had no problem helping his new friend.

_View it as a thank you for the stag-drawing,_ he thought.

“Alright…” He continued writing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that when I write Harry and Kakashi together, I apparently take a lot of inspiration on the more mischievous adult Kakashi... You know, the one who mooches off Yamato, to make him pay the bill. Who's always late and gives bad excuses for his tardiness... You'll see that in the upcoming chapters.  
> I think part of it is, that with Siius - because he didn't know he was a human for quite a long time - he let his guard down early on. With Harry he doesn't do that... This fun and careless 'let's make Harry write my letter, so the minister will actually read it'-Kakashi is mostly a facade, after all. It's in canon too, I think. It's part of his kind of cool, kind of aloof, kind of mysterious and secretive and keeping everybody at a distance-mask. There wasn't really a point for him to 'change' how he acted around sirius, after sirius already got to meet the real Kakashi. With Harry, he knows he's a person from the start, so he wouldn't open up so easily.
> 
> (PS. Yes, Kakashi was very much on edge and ready to kill whoever came runing into his room until he realized it was Harry. Also those of you who feared that Kakashi's clone would just up and vanish without explaining anything to poor old Sirius... congratulations, you were right of course.)


	18. XVIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huiui... I didn't notice, but the chapter I had planned to upload was super long. Almost 10k words, so I decided to split it in half.

_“Is it your first time?”_

_Low affect in a voice he had only ever known to be either kind or bored._

_“Did you kill before?”_

_“I crushed his windpipe.”_

The voice was ringing in his ears. Sirius violently awoke from unconsciousness.

“I’m sorry.”

What? Who was speaking to him? There was a low _pop_ behind him, but as he whirled around, nobody was there.

Water splashed around his waist.

Sirius searched the darkness for the speaker, but he was completely alone. He was leaning against stone walls, kneeling in some sort of liquid and—

Merlin and Morgana, the stench! He was in an old sewer system, he quickly realized.

The last he remembered was being stuck in the ministry cells. Kakashi had come and killed… That low affect in his voice as he spoke about killing a man.

No, that couldn’t have been Kakashi! Sirius shook his head. He felt confusion numbing his brain.

One thing after the other, he told himself. He was obviously not in the ministry anymore. This had to be the sewers under London. He had no idea how he got here, but Sirius wouldn’t be so stupid as to waste his chance for freedom.

He felt weak, his legs felt unsure, but he managed to stand up. With the stench around him, he didn’t want to turn into his dog form. Stumbling, he took a tentative step. Now that he stood, the sewage reached up to his knees. It was dripping disgustingly from the rim of his shirt and his sleeves. He pulled his collar up over his mouth and nose to protect himself from the bad fumes.

Sirius didn’t linger much over it.

He had escaped from Azkaban of all places. The word hygiene had very much left his vocabulary years ago. Wading through shit, he held one hand against the wall, to orient himself in the darkness. Sirius had no idea about the London sewer systems. He had no idea where to go, but the stench aside… This feeling of disorientation seemed familiar.

Like exploring the secret passages through Hogwarts. If he ignored the stench and the mixture of water, dirt, and shit…he could almost compare it. He could almost hear James’ voice calling him forward.

_“Right here, Pads! Let’s find the exit.”_

He blindly followed where the imaginary voice that sounded like James led him.

_Are you leading me to Harry?_ Sirius wondered. _Will you lead me to your son, James? Or back to hell, to accept my punishment? For causing your death._

He shook his head. James wouldn’t do that to him, would he? Even after Sirius’ failure. Sirius blindly followed, wherever James would lead him. He didn’t even think about where he was going. Or where he wanted to go.

The image of Alaric Gibson and his crushed windpipe, the tone of Kakashi’s voice… It couldn’t possibly have been Kakashi… Sirius didn’t want to think about it. Had he caused another friend to die?

In an odd way, the stench was a comforting distraction. And then the sickness caught up to him and he puked against the wall.

He had to get out of here… and then…

_Hogwarts. He’s in Hogwarts._

His goal hadn’t changed.

***********

Kakashi watched the white snow owl vanish over the roofs of London. If she really was as smart as Harry had suggested, she’d reach the ministry in no time, and he could maybe already expect a response this evening. Or not, Kakashi reconsidered. Who knew how fast the ministry worked? Surely, they still had their hands full with Sirius’ escape.

Kakashi sighed. “I’m taking a nap,” he announced to Harry as he left the room. There were things he had to think about.

Earlier this morning, when he fell in bed tired and exhausted, he hadn’t known what his next steps would be. He had considered just trying to investigate magical dimensional travel and then find his fastest way home. After having almost – he hoped, it was only almost – killed Sirius’ friend, he knew the other would have no interest in his help. He wouldn’t want to see him ever again, and in any case, Kakashi had proven, once more, that he’d only bring violence into this world. Never mind, that he had heard the minister talk. The man was perfectly willing to blame all the injured – and potentially dead – aurors on Sirius. Instead of helping him, Kakashi had made it worse in the long run.

So, maybe it would be best to just leave back to Konoha as fast as he could. Conveniently, he was apparently right at the entry point to Diagon Alley, the magical London. So, tomorrow he could start researching dimensional travel here…

Then he was rudely awakened by a knock on the door and had to quickly transform back to Charlie. Harry offered to use his owl, and Kakashi remembered.

_Hogwarts_.

The rat would be there. He could still do something for Sirius, even if the other never wanted to see him again. He could make up for his mistake, by hunting down the rat. Maybe, he could even proof Sirius’ innocence. Do something, to make up for his mistake at least.

The new problem he now had to deal with, was that of his identity. He hadn’t meant to don the disguise of ‘Charlie Major’ for longer than necessary. He had hoped that Sirius would find Harry and him soon, and then Kakashi could join him again. But then things had happened, and now it seemed he was stuck with the name and face.

Which caused quite a few problems. Charlie Major was an English name, but even Harry – who wasn’t himself the sharpest investigator – could quickly deduce that Kakashi himself wasn’t actually English. His accent was a dead give-away. Although he was confident in his English by now, pronunciation was a different beast altogether. Harry also picked up on the fact, that he had never written anything in English before. Kakashi had spent long hours reading the language, but writing it was something else entirely. He hadn’t even known the name for the short stroke that his eyes had skipped over a thousand times, as he read the newspapers. Kakashi had never asked Sirius about that – and why would he have? A _comma_.

Kakashi let Harry do the work for him. And Harry did a marvelous job of finding a country of origin for Kakashi. South Africa. Conveniently, he remembered reading about the country before, so he could even give Harry a name for the city.

There were other problems regarding his identity, that he had to solve. He wasn’t in the ministries register. On top of that, he had told them he was muggleborn – he was rather grateful that Sirius had told him what muggles where. Being muggleborn, however, meant he shouldn’t just be on the magical registry, but it stood to reason, that the muggles had a similar databank. So, he’d need to find a way to explain why he wasn’t in either registry.

He had said, he came from Horley, but Horley was such a small place, if anybody made a bit of research, they’d quickly notice that nobody in Horley had ever met a boy called Charlie Major. Never mind, what would he explain happened to his parents?

Charlie Major, a muggleborn wizard from Johannesburg, South Africa who somehow ended up in Horley, England without a legal guardian, without appearing on any muggle or wizarding registry and nobody in Horley ever hearing about him.

He’d bang his head against the wall in frustration if he didn’t worry that somebody might hear and it would only cause more questions. How could he make sense of this story? Since when were his cover stories so lack-luster?

So much about researching dimensional travel. Now, instead, he had to focus on finding more information to make the story more plausible. If he was unlucky, the minister would ask him to a meeting in the ministry – be that with the minister personally or somebody from the school or somebody responsible for underage wizards. By that time, he’d need his story airtight. If the minister didn’t want to talk to him, he’d need the story at the start of the term, at the latest.

Which meant… Instead of taking the nap he had announced to Harry, Kakashi walked down to Tom to ask him whether there was a library or something like that in London. Surely, there was. London was huge after all.

Sadly, apparently Tom had no idea about muggle London and could only give him directions to the local bookstore in Diagon Alley – Kakashi didn’t even know how to get to Diagon Alley yet. However, Kakashi was certain enough, that there had to be…some sort of library in this huge city, so he simply left the pub and the dingy little street it was in and asked a few pedestrians for directions.

South Africa, he thought. Even if he could maybe get out of talking about his ‘time in Johannesburg’ by eluding to some traumatic memory, he needed some knowledge about the country. First and foremost, he should probably learn about the language that Harry now thought was his mother tongue.

To his delight, he quickly learned, London had libraries for days with more knowledge compiled in them then he’d find in the Konoha Archives. With the difference of course, that this knowledge was all easily available, because either nobody had ever told these people that knowledge was power or… _well_ … or they just really valued education on matters other than killing, Kakashi thought with a snort.

Using the library didn’t even cost anything.

******

He had been too naïve, Kakashi thought.

Of course, this world knew war and bloodshed. Apparently, he had the great luck of having landed in a country and time that did not currently experience war, but evidently, this world was not a warless utopia. Sirius had alluded to that as well. Kakashi remembered He had talked about a war in the past.

Kakashi hadn’t known what to make of the information because nobody in this country seemed to remember anything about war. They all seemed to feel safe. Yet, as Kakashi read up on history, he found out, that they too had fought in a bloody World War. Just fifty years ago. Granted, the period of peace was longer, than any period of prolonged peace Konoha had ever experienced. But fifty years was not outside human memory. It meant there were a lot of people still alive who had experienced and even fought in that war. Who had suffered and lost family and friends.

Kakashi was both disappointed and disturbingly relieved, as he read about it. This was not the utopia he had imagined it in. Instead, it was a world violent and bloody and brutal as his own. Which meant, he hadn’t brought violence to this place. It was already there. The realization was relieving. It made this place less foreign and him feel a little more at place. It also gave him hope he thought.

These people had fought bloody wars for centuries as it seemed. Now they were at peace. Just because, a war had happened, just because many might still remember it, did not make the peace he had felt as he had traveled through the villages, any less real. This country knew war and violence, and now it was allied with their former adversaries.

Reading up on the history of the United Kingdom and of South Africa, he learned a lot about this world. He learned that when Harry mentioned ‘colonies’ he was alluding to a violent past, where one people had ruled over and suppressed the other. He learned of struggles, of prejudice and of terrible massacres. And much of it felt oddly familiar.

He was sucked into the history of this world and when he finally decided it was time to get back to his room in the Leaky Cauldron, one realization had struck him with surprising force:

This world was _ancient_.

This country was hundreds of years old, looking back on an over two-thousand-year-old history. Two thousand years of struggles of wars and violence… And yet now, old city walls and defenses only stood as a reminder of ancient architecture, as a tourist attraction or hiking destination.

Konoha was only eighty years old, and even within these eighty years so many questionable things had happened, that the details in history books were murky at best. Would they have to get through that as well. Would they take a thousand years to finally have a semblance of this peace?

In his research, as he read over cruel events and heinous war crimes, that rang familiar to his ears because he could easily imagine them in his world – he could even imagine being involved in some cases – there were certain phrases he came upon again and again. Words that made him stumble, made him look for new books on the subject, made his head spin.

Just war… Human rights… United Nations?

None of these terms seemed absolute. Rule books, and feeble consensus to protect people and nations from war and suffering. It quickly became obvious, that the rules were broken again and again. And yet still, there was a continued effort.

The reason these people enjoyed peace, he realized, wasn’t because they knew nothing of war and nothing of battle. It wasn’t because they were soft and weak. It wasn’t because they had no enemies. It was because at some point they had decided that peace and safety was preferable, and because since then there was continued effort to preserve it.

It would be naïve to assume that the system was flawless, that it wasn’t still fragile. There were wars all over in this world. Even now.

Yet, to Kakashi the existence of war wasn’t what had him stunned. To him, war was normal. What was utterly new to him was the efforts made – even by countries that weren’t affected directly – to stop or prevent it.

By the time, he fell asleep in his room, he hadn’t made any progress on his task to make his identity airtight, apart from knowing that he had to learn about a language called Afrikaans – which was thankfully closely related to English, he found out, and didn’t seem to difficult all things considered. It was – English aside – not the only language spoken in South Africa, but the one he was most confident he could learn and – after his short research – made most sense for him to pick. After all, Charlie was clearly – as Harry had put it – quite pasty.

********

**Two aurors in intensive care after botched attempt to recapture mass-murderer Sirius Black**

_London, Yesterday, in the early morning hours convicted mass-murderer Sirius Black was recaptured by the ministry of magic. Held in London until his transport to the wizarding prison Azkaban, Black…_

Harry turned to his hot chocolate, steering it with his spoon. He hadn’t even known Black had been recaptured. That must have been during the night of his arrival at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry thought. He remembered, Charlie telling him about Fudge’s sudden departure. Well, at least that question was answered now.

He looked at the new picture of Black the prophet had published this morning. It showed the madman behind iron bars. He looked slack-jawed, with wide eyes and deathly pallor. He looked even more skeletal than he had in that first picture, and he had gotten older, Harry noted. But the thing that made him unable to turn his eyes away from the man, wasn’t the skeletal frame. There was something lurking behind his eyes, that Harry couldn’t quite place. He couldn’t turn his eyes away from it.

It felt like he was intruding into a very private and intimate moment, only that this moment was captured for eternity and printed a thousand times for everyone to see. It was entrancing.

“What are you reading?” Charlie’s voice pulled him away from the picture. Having already read it anyway, Harry picked the morning edition of the daily prophet up and slid it over to the other boy who just sat onto the bench opposite Harry. “Apparently the ministry had Black for about an hour, and then he all but killed two of their aurors and left again.” Harry grimaced.

Charlie paled a little and grabbed the paper. His brows furrowed a little. Harry could empathize with him. When he first started reading the Daily Prophet the characters had been almost unintelligible for him as well. Still, slowly Charlie made progress through the article.

“They survived?” Charlie’s voice was quiet, but he seemed agitated. It was in the way his shoulders didn’t slump quite as casually as they normally did.

Harry took a sip from his drink. “I don’t know. They say there were four people injured. Two of them are fine now. One is to be transferred from intensive care soon, so I guess, he’s going to be okay. The other one is still critical.” He shuddered. “Black had to have done something really bad. I know how fast magical healing works.”

Charlie looked unhappy as he handed the paper back to Harry.

“You can keep it,” Harry offered. “I’ve already read it.”

The other boy gave a slow nod. Then he folded the prophet and put it next to him on the table. “Thanks.” He looked to the wall. Then Charlie knocked his knuckles against the new wanted poster. This morning they had appeared everywhere in the Leaky Cauldron. “Those weren’t here yesterday.”

Harry nodded emptying his cup and finishing his breakfast. “They added a bounty.” He shrugged. “I mean they already offered a reward before, but now…” He shook his head as he staired at the picture. It was the same picture that was printed on the newspaper. Once more, Harry couldn’t avert his gaze from the insanity in those eyes.

“5000 Galleons,” Charlie read. “How much is that?”

“A lot.” Harry wasn’t sure himself. He had learned the exchange rates at some point in his first year, he remembered. But since he never owned any muggle money that he needed to exchange he could never quite remember. “I think one Galleon is four Pounds if that helps. Or five?”

He looked at the number below the wanted poster. He knew the Weasley’s could use that money. But he had no interest getting involved in this business. If Black had escaped from the ministry – which he assumed was in London – he might still be close. Harry shuddered. Then again, Black was a wizard, and they said he had a wand too… So, he could really be everywhere.

“You don’t eat breakfast?” Harry asked. He only now realized that Charlie didn’t bring a plate with him. He didn’t even drink anything. For a moment he worried that Fudge hadn’t paid Charlie’s breakfast in advance the way he had Harry’s.

“I saw Tom spit into the dishrag.” Charlie smirked innocently.

Harry sputtered. “What? And you’re telling me now?” Dejectedly, he looked at his empty plate, but then he gave a tired shrug. It was too late, after all. He had already eaten. If Harry was honest, even knowing this, he’d probably eat his breakfast here again, tomorrow. “So, where do you eat breakfast?” Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. As he looked at Kakashi, he noticed he was still wearing the same hoodie. He’s been wearing that thing for three days now. Normally, Harry wouldn’t really mention it, but… “And why are you still wearing that hoodie. It’s been three days and it has like 30 degrees out there.”

Charlie shrugged. It was a miniscule little movement. Just a tiny role of his shoulder. “I’m not hungry. And I like the hoodie.” He sounded a bit petulant with the last word.

“But it’s hot,” Harry gestured to the closest window. Something else occurred to him. “Wait… You don’t have anything else.” He was pretty-certain he was right, now that he said it.

“Of course, I do,” Charlie pouted.

“No, you don’t.” Harry was certain of that. “You didn’t have a suitcase. And you don’t have money. I had to pay the Knight Bus for you.”

“Because they didn’t change muggle money,” Charlie answered annoyed.

Oh right. Harry had forgotten about that part. “Okay, true. But later you also couldn’t pay the room here.” It made sense, Harry thought. Charlie mentioned that he lived alone and without a guardian. Where would he get money from? Harry felt almost stupid, for not having noticed it earlier. He felt even stupider for being so blunt about it. His best friend Ron didn’t have money either. His family was very poor. Ron didn’t like to talk about it. Harry should have remembered that sooner and been a little more gracious about it.

“If you want, I can lend you money,” Harry said, thinking Charlie might be more willing to accept if he didn’t offer it as charity but as a loan. “So, you can buy stuff. I mean, you’ll need school supplies anyway if you want to go to Hogwarts. That costs a lot.”

Charlie made a face. “I can’t use your magical money in muggle London,” he said calmly.

Harry was a little confused at the comment. What would Charlie need to go to muggle London for? He could buy everything he needed in Diagon Alley. He was about to say that, when Kakashi spoke again.

“I don’t know how to get to Diagon Alley.”

Harry closed his mouth again, stunned. He didn’t know how to get to Diagon Alley? At this point, Harry would doubt that Charlie was even a wizard, if he hadn’t seen Charlie use some sort of wandless magic to disarm the minister. Never mind that he had seen the Knight Bus, which most Muggles didn’t seem to be able to see.

“The entry is in the backyard. There’s a wall, and you need to tap a pattern with your wand. I can show you,” he offered.

Charlie looked at him for a long while until he answered. “I don’t have a wand.”

Harry froze. “You don’t—But you’re a wizard! Why wouldn’t you have a wand?” He felt squeezy. This felt entirely too familiar. Harry hadn’t known anything about the magical world until he turned eleven. His aunt and uncle had refused to tell him anything. He hadn’t even known _that_ he was a wizard. When Hagrid first brought him to Diagon Alley, Harry had been overwhelmed. He remembered, when he first arrived on King’s Cross how he hadn’t known what to do, and if he hadn’t found the Weasleys who could explain it to him, he would have missed his train. Even today there were so many things about the magical world he didn’t know. He was still learning and always jealous of Ron who had the privilege to grow up with all of this.

But Charlie…he was like Harry. Exactly like him, Harry thought. Only that he was three years older, and somehow, he must have fallen through the cracks and didn’t get a Hogwarts letter and had to navigate all this on his own. He didn’t even have a wand.

“Do you have time today?” Harry asked.

Charlie looked surprised at the change of topic. He shrugged and then shook his head. “Not really. I wanted to ask if the minister answered. And then I need to go to muggle London.”

Harry wanted to ask what he needed in muggle London, but then it wasn’t really any of his concern. It was maybe for the better. That way he had time to write letters to Hermione and Ron, tell them that he was in London and then he could go to Gringotts and get some money.

“No, I didn’t get a letter back yet,” Harry answered quickly. “What about tomorrow. Can you make time tomorrow?” Charlie looked at him patiently. Harry continued when it became clear, that the other boy wanted to know the plan first. “I just… I thought we could go shopping together. I show you Diagon Alley. You can get a wand… What do you say?”

He was half convinced that Charlie would deny him. He hadn’t made the overt offer to pay for everything, but it was very much implied, and Harry still thought, Charlie might be too proud to accept charity. But then, Charlie gave another shrug. “Sure. At eight?”

“Eight?” Harry thought that was a little late… Wait. “In the morning?” Ugh… “Yeah sure, eight sounds great.” There was only little excitement in his voice.

Charlie smirked. That little…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Sirius is all alone. Which is also the reason he will only sporadically appear for a while. He make his way to Hogwarts on his own. There's not that much to write about sadly.  
> Meanwhile Kakashi and Harry....shenanigans ensue. I really love letting Kakashi think about politics of this world... All of that has to sound so strange for kakashi... But I hope he can take some of what he learns with him to Konoha at the end of the story. Next chapter Harry and KAkashi will go wand shopping... expect another lengthy chapter...That will be fun.


	19. XIV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, fair warning. I channelled the trolliest troll!Kakashi I knew for his chapter. (Which is Kakashi while he trains Naruto for his Rasen-Shuriken, making Yamato do all the hard work AND paying for his meal... As I was writing this chapter, that and the 'demasking Kakashi' filler episode where constantly on my mind.   
> I hope you like it.

Harry didn’t see Charlie all day. He spent the time doing his homework that he couldn’t get done at the Dursleys’ and then sending letters to both Hermione and Ron. Because Ron was still in Egypt, he used an owl from the owlery to take the letter. If he sent Hedwig, he wouldn’t see her again for the rest of the week.

The next morning, he still felt groggy and tired and…

Where was Charlie?

Here Harry stood. He had forced himself out of bed at 7:30 in the morning to get an early breakfast. It was still during the holidays, but for his new friend he had resigned himself to this little discomfort… And now Charlie wasn’t there.

Impatiently, Harry waited in the pub for well over twenty minutes. “This does it,” he groaned to Tom. “When he arrives, tell him to find me in my room. I go back to—”

“Yo!”

Harry jumped from surprise. There he was standing at the bottom of the stairs, hands in his pocket. Harry almost didn’t recognize him at first.

“Where the hell have you been?” Harry bellowed rudely. “I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes.”

Charlie seemed unfazed. He casually pointed over his shoulder. “I was on the toilet. Are you ready?”

Ready? If he was ready? Frustrated, Harry paid the glass of pumpkin juice he had ordered just to pass the time. “Sure, let’s go.” Grumpily he stomped into the backyard. He could hear Charlie kindly wishing Tom a good morning, as he passed by. Harry didn’t bother to hold the door for him. He somewhat wished the heavy door would fall shut and right into Charlie’s face, but of course he had no such luck.

“Watch me,” he told Charlie. “I won’t show you again.” Of course, he was only angry in the moment. He knew exactly that he couldn’t deny Charlie if he asked to see it again. He knocked against the brick stones of the wall, and as he turned around, he wasn’t even sure Charlie was looking at him. Instead, he was holding the door for two witches who had followed them to the backyard.

“Did you watch?” Harry asked impatiently, as he stepped aside to let the witches pass through the hole in the wall he had just opened. “Can you remember it?”

“It’s not that difficult,” Kakashi said as he let the door fall shut. “Let’s go.”

But Harry stopped him with a hand to his chest. The other boy visibly bristled at the contact. Harry was taken aback by the reaction. He quickly caught himself though.

“You do it,” he demanded and with a wave he closed the passage again. Harry had a snide grin on his lips. If Charlie thought this was just a joke… “Here. Take my wand.” Handing his wand over felt wrong, but he knew he’d have it back in a moment, so he didn’t feel any qualms about it.

Charlie looked at the wand doubtfully, but he still took it. Uselessly, he stood in front of the brick wall.

“Well,” Harry said impatiently. He was already smirking at the victory. Of course, Charlie hadn’t actually—

Charlie quickly did the pattern. He tapped all the right bricks with a speed and certainty, that Harry found stunning. It annoyed him even more, because Harry knew he had needed until his second year to have the pattern down. It was not the first time he was jealous of Charlie. The boy had a good memory. Harry snickered a little. Maybe, he was one of those overachievers like Hermione. Hermione was the smartest witch in his age, he couldn’t wait for her to show Charlie up. Or for Ron to win in chess.

Harry didn’t dislike Charlie. More than anything, he felt for his plight. From what Harry had gathered, he didn’t have it easy. But it irked him how Charlie could do everything so perfectly. Drawing, calligraphy, and now he also had a good memory. Spelling might be the only thing he was better at than Charlie, and that was only because it wasn’t his mother tongue.

Now, why didn’t the passage open, though? Charlie looked at him expectantly.

“Try it again, maybe there was a mistake,” Harry suggested. He hadn’t seen a mistake, but maybe he had missed something.

Charlie’s brows furrowed a little, but he followed the suggestion and did the pattern again. Still nothing happened.

Harry sighed. “I guess my wand doesn’t do it for you.” That had to be it, he reasoned, as he took the wand back, to open the passage again. “Et voilà!”

The way Charlie looked he didn’t speak French. Then again, Harry had just used almost all his French vocabulary. So that was nothing where Harry could outshine him either.

“Ollivanders is over there,” he pointed down the cobblestone road. Witches and wizards hurried along the street from one shop to the next. Some complained about the two boys standing in the middle of the road. Most just circled around them. “That’s where you get—”

He stopped as he turned to Charlie who had an odd look on his face. Oh yeah, right. Diagon Alley could be rather overwhelming at first, Harry knew. He still remembered his first time. The old street with crooked houses. The path leading up to the massive wizarding bank Gringotts. The noise from witches and wizards prattling about the newest broomstick or how the last Quidditch league match went or – recently – about Sirius Black. The cacophony of animal cries from the Magic Menagerie and Eeylops Owl Emporium. A boy stood in the middle of the street giving out Black’s wanted posters, yelling about the man’s most recent misdeeds.

And then of course there were the people. A wild horde of oddly dressed individuals, with funny hats and intricate robes. Some of them had their pets with them, and some of these pets were magical creatures that even Harry couldn’t name yet. And most of them used magic. People apparated into the middle of the street. Every now and then in one of the shops or houses, a flash of flickering green light came through the window as somebody used the floo network. Every second witch or wizard used a levitation spell to let their purchases float in front of them. Somebody used a voice enhancing _Sonorus_ charm to advertise the products of the Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop.

Harry grabbed Charlie at the shoulder. The boy immediately flinched out of his hold. He had just stared at a witch with a bright pink pointy hat who had used a charm to put up a giant banner over the main entrance of Flourish & Blotts. Now, Charlie stared at Harry in confusion.

“Let’s just…” Harry gestured towards Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour. After his earlier reaction, Harry didn’t feel comfortable touching him, but as he slowly walked towards the ice cream salon, he was relieved to see Charlie follow him.

“It’s all a bit much, at first,” Harry said nervously, handing Charlie the menu, just so the boy had something in his hands. Harry feared he might punch the next wizard or witch who came to close if he had his hands free. “I remember how it was for me. You were really never here before?”

Charlie shook his head, his head buried into the menu, though Harry wasn’t sure if he was hiding behind it or reading it.

“Hagrid brought me here when I turned eleven.” Even though Charlie wouldn’t know about Hagrid and hadn’t asked, Harry thought, talking would help. Maybe Charlie would feel more comfortable, if he knew he wasn’t the only one who was overwhelmed the first time they saw Diagon Alley. “He’s the groundskeeper at Hogwarts.” He wondered, if this was Charlie’s reaction to Diagon Alley, how would he react to Hogwarts? Although he felt bad, that nobody had ever helped Charlie integrate into the magical world, Harry was even more excited at the prospect of Charlie seeing Hogwarts.

“I didn’t even know I was a wizard, back then. When Hagrid came to tell me and give me my letter to Hogwarts, I didn’t believe it. Like, sure, weird things sometimes happened around me.” He laughed as he remembered the zoo-incident when he freed the boa constrictor and made Dudley fall into the enclosure. “I remember, when I was in elementary school, sometimes I just ended up on the roof, and I never knew how I got there. Or my hair would grow over night if I didn’t like the haircut.” He fumbled with his hair.

“Wait…,” Harry suddenly noticed something. “You cut your hair, didn’t you?” Yes, he had wondered why Charlie looked different. He must have changed his hairstyle. That was what he’d done yesterday? Using his twenty pounds to get his hair cut?

Charlie dragged his hand through his hair. He smiled sheepishly. “You noticed?”

“Yeah. Makes you look shorter, weirdly enough.” He laughed.

The other boy shrugged.

“But it looks nice,” Harry said. Weirdly enough, it made Charlie look a lot better. Even his face seemed more handsome now.

“So, what was your first magic?” Harry asked curiously. “For me it was probably the hair thing.”

Charlie shrugged again. Harry was frustrated at the lack of response.

“Come on, give me something to work with.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Charlie blocked the way he had already blocked Harry’s questions two days before.

Harry sighed. He had an idea. “Is it because your parents freaked out or something?” he guessed. “I get it, I mean the Dursleys hate magic too. Aunt Petunia is my mother’s sister, but she hates magic. And Uncle Vernon and Dudley, my cousin, they are all muggles too. I think they’re afraid of magic.” Harry huffed in frustration. “Like what do they think I’m going to do. Not like I can do anything. It’s illegal after all.” He grumbled and took the menu from Charlie when the other boy put it down.

“You did blow up your aunt,” Charlie smirked.

Harry snorted. Right, he had almost forgotten about that. “She’s not my aunt, really. She’s Vernon’s sister. And she deserved it. Talked bad about my parents.” He still got angry when he thought about it. She had compared his father to a poorly bred dog! He would’ve done worse to her if he could’ve and he was actually disappointed that the ministry had fixed her again.

Carefully he tried to rein back his anger. He knew, he didn’t actually have it in him to cause them lasting harm, but sometimes he was just so furious. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? Why did he have the great misfortune to live with a family who hated magic?

“My friend Hermione is muggleborn too,” he told Charlie who listened attentively. “Her parents are supportive even though they don’t understand everything, but…” He shook his head. “I’ll take the Gryffindor Cup,” Harry decided in that moment and put the menu down. “Do you know what you want?” He thought about warning Charlie about some of the exotic tastes. But then he remembered that Charlie had made him wait 20 minutes. “Actually, you should choose Barnabas the Fowl’s Cup.”

Charlie looked at him with smart eyes, then he blinked and smiled. “Sure, whatever you say.”

Harry didn’t feel bad for ordering Charlie earwax and freshly pressed Flobberworm juice ice cream. The menu described it as a surprising yellow and pink combination, so no way would Charlie know what he had coming. Harry felt a little gleeful. In a way, he thought, that was the right initiation into the magical world. He’d been surprised with vomit-flavored Bertie Bott’s Beans after all.

“How long have you been in Horley?” Harry asked after a moment. It bugged him that there had been a wizard so close, and he had never known about it.

“Only a few months,” Charlie replied. “I was in London, before.”

“Johannesburg to London to Horley,” Harry chuckled. “Sounds like a story.”

Charlie didn’t answer.

“Yeah, I get it. You don’t want to talk about it.

When Florean Fortescue brought their ice cream cups, Harry immediately paid. Mostly, because he feared, that the moment Charlie took his first bite, he’d spit it out and run away. And then there would be no time to pay anymore.

Harry grinned in anticipation, eyes fixed on Charlie’s yellow and pink combination. Trying to seem less obvious, he turned to his own ice cream, and tasted a spoon full. Hmm, raspberry. The bright red ice cream was raspberry, the gold colored one, he didn’t know. But it was a very tasty combination of fruits that he liked a lot.

Charlie hadn’t eaten anything yet.

“What are you waiting for?” Harry asked impatiently, already thinking the other boy had figured him out.

“Harry,” Charlie said. Harry looked up at him, right into two hazel colored eyes. Then the other boy’s eyes narrowed into a smile. “Thanks for the invitation. It’s nice to find a friend.”

“Uh…” taken by surprise, Harry blinked at him. Suddenly, he felt bad at abusing Charlie’s trust. This was a stupid idea, Harry thought. How would Harry have taken it if Hagrid had played a prank like that on him? “You shouldn’t—”

But it was too late. Charlie already poked his spoon into the ice-cream and tasted the first bite. Harry held his breath, waiting for the outcry of disgust and a glare full of broken trust. Nothing came. Instead Charlie took another spoon full.

Harry was baffled. “You like it?” he asked confused. Maybe Fortescue had changed the recipe. That had to be it.

“Hm?” Charlie looked up at him. “Yes, some sort of berry,” he guessed. “A bit sweet maybe. What did you want to say earlier?”

Harry shook his head. “Nothing…” He thought it would be best to just let it go. “You sure?” He asked anyway because he was horribly curious.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Charlie pointed with the spoon to his pink colored ice cream. The one Harry knew for a fact was Flobberworm juice flavored. A horribly bitter and slightly metallic taste that wouldn’t leave the tongue for days. “You want to try?”

“Uhm… no, I just… didn’t know I guessed your tastes right.” Harry stammered.

Confused he dug into his own dessert—

And spit it right back out. What the—

The Flobberworm juice was still in his mouth. Disgusting! Undignified, he spit on the ground.

Charlie… the boy was smirking at him over his cup. Over his…Gryffindor Cup? Now, Harry saw it clearly, the red and gold. He looked at his own cup. The sickly yellow and bright chewing gum pink. How hadn’t he seen it until now? When had Charlie even changed the cups and how had he known?

_It’s nice to have a friend._

Yeah right. That sappy tone and his smile, that was probably when he changed it. Bastard! And Harry had even fallen for the act. He couldn’t really fault Charlie for turning the prank on him, he was still angry. And frustrated. Thankfully, at least Charlie seemed to have the good grace not to comment about his victory.

_What you didn’t like what you ordered?_ Some comment like that. That would’ve been just what Harry needed right now.

“Let’s go!” Harry announced jumping from his seat. He would not touch his ice cream, he still fought the lingering aftertaste, and he had no interest watching Kakashi eat his. “We’ll go to Ollivanders.”

Kakashi didn’t complain, nor did he ask to finish his cup first. He simply wiped his hands at the napkin and followed Harry.

*******

Kakashi had been nervous when he first met Harry that morning. He had worried about his disguise sticking. Knowing he’d have to keep this disguise up for a long time, he didn’t fancy holding the transformation jutsu for longer than necessary. It wasn’t difficult. But over many days, it would still drain his chakra somewhat. He had decided to instead go with cutting and dying his hair, colored contact lenses, make up and partial transformation over his face.

Thankfully, the transformation he had come up with for Charlie Major, was close to himself in statue. He was little taller than Kakashi, his hair was also a little different. And his face a little rounder. He used the partial transformation to hide the scar and fake Charlie’s features, that he couldn’t hide with makeup. Kakashi still looked a little different now. The jaw and nose were now his own. It felt odd having his face out in public like that.

Potter had noticed the changes of course, but he had – as Kakashi had hoped – put them down to the new haircut. It was just fine for Kakashi, that most people looked at eyes and hair for prominent features. With a massive change in hairstyle, more subtle changes around his jaw, went mostly ignored. Harry hadn’t known Charlie Major for long, so that helped too.

Harry had noticed the height difference though. Kakashi was fairly impressed by that.

Kakashi, who now looked much more like Kakashi then like Charlie Major, followed Harry into a cramped shop. It wasn’t small, by no means. But desks full of long and sleek boxes, shelves overflowing with more of the same boxes made the room look confined and tiny. Kakashi didn’t like the chaos. This whole place, Diagon Alley, was a mess. A loud and noisy, colorful, and annoyingly alive place. Just before they entered Ollivanders, something exploded just around the corner, and Kakashi needed a moment of wide-eyed alertness, before he understood that it was a group of children playing a card game. A card game with exploding cards…

“Mr. Potter!” An old man exclaimed when they entered the shop with a double ring of the doorbell. Pale eyes first met Harry’s green, then travelled much less interested to Kakashi. Kakashi had already noted that the boy drew eyes wherever he went. What a pain. The old man’s white hair was neatly curling down to his neck. “Holly, Phoenix Feather, 11 inch, nice and subtle.” Kakashi had no idea what he was talking about. “Truly an extraordinary wand. You still have it?”

Harry pulled his wand from his belt. The man seemed immediately excited.

“Truly! May I?” He already shook pale and surprisingly delicate hands out of his wide and frilly sleeves.

Harry only handed the wand over reluctantly. The man took it, held it against the light, twirled it in his fingers and then traveled the entire length of it with his index finger. “Among my best work, if I say so myself,” he praised it and handed the wand back. “Of course, its brother—"

“I remember, Mr. Ollivander,” Harry interrupted him with a long-suffering smile.

“Ah. Yes, of course. I feared, if I am honest, that you might have lost it. What else brings you here, Mr. Potter?” As Ollivander spoke, his eyes were already travelling to Kakashi, as if he could guess the reason for their visit even without being told.

“This is Charlie Major,” Harry said. “He…” For a moment Kakashi thought Harry was about to tell the whole story about how ‘Charlie’ was a muggleborn wizard fallen through the cracks who hadn’t ever owned a wand before. But then he simply said: “He needs a wand.”

Ollivander nodded, now focused on Kakashi, waving him over. “Of course.” He frowned a little. “You didn’t buy a wand from me before,” he stated matter-of-factly as if he remembered all of his customers. Kakashi thought he actually might. “May I ask what wand you used before?” He pulled out a measuring tape. “Put your wand hand out like this, please.” He stretched his own hand out in front of him.

Kakashi had no idea what his wand hand was – probably neither in his case – so he simply used his right. He watched Ollivander meticulously measure the length of his arm and then the width of his palm.

“Well?” He asked looking up from his work to lock eyes Kakashi. “Your former wand?”

Kakashi coughed. “This will be my first.”

Ollivander seemed taken aback. “What wand did you use in Hogwarts so far?” he rephrased his question.

“I never went to Hogwarts.”

Ollivander seemed impatient now. He took down the measuring tape, as he looked at Kakashi more seriously. “What school then? Whatever school you went to, they must have given you a wand—”

“Mr. Ollivander,” Harry interrupted. “Charlie didn’t go to any wizarding school yet.”

Surprised, Ollivander took a step back. “Merlin,” he muttered with eyes as round and pale as the moon. “That is impossible.”

“It’s true,” Harry shook his head. “I know it’s hard to believe.”

Ollivander took his measuring tape again. “It seems impossible to believe,” he agreed, and continued measuring the circumference of Kakashi’s wrist. Whispering the number, he let go of the tape, but instead of falling, it started taking measurements all on its own. Kakashi followed it wearily with his eyes, as it measured his full body height, the length of his fingers, the length of his nose, the width of his chest, his feet and so on.

Having taken and written down almost every measurement possible, Ollivander frowned at his sheet of parchment. “Odd,” he mumbled. “Odd, but…” He went over the assortment of boxes on his table, tapping his index finger against some of them, then he pulled one out, in a light grey color. He wiped the dust away, opened the box and took the wand from a velvet cushion.

“Hazelnut,” he said, “dragon heart string, 12 inches, very flexible.” The words didn’t mean anything to Kakashi, but he took the wand. Seriously, he didn’t know what he would need a wand for. If nothing else, he could give it to Sirius, he figured, should they ever meet again, and should the man even be interested to take anything of Kakashi’s, then. Kakashi knew, he wouldn’t be able to use a wand. But not having one, would cause more questions than having one that he wasn’t using. At least for now, he knew. With the restriction on underage magic, even Harry’s wand was little more than a stick. He could use it to get to Diagon Alley, that aside, he wasn’t allowed to do any magic with it.

He didn’t know what to do with the wand now that he had it in his hand. Should he just take it, pay and that was it? That would be surprisingly easy. His gaze travelled from Ollivander to Harry, both of them were looking at him expectantly.

“Well, give it a try,” Ollivander suggested though he had a disapproving frown on his face, like something wasn’t right. “Swing it.”

Kakashi felt incredibly childish, as he gave the stick a little flick. Nothing happened. Thankfully, Ollivander didn’t drag it out. He took the wand back immediately, put it back in the box, and after short contemplation brought two more boxes.

“Cedar, dragon heart string, 10 ½ inches, hard.” He handed the wand over. “Try.”

Kakashi swung, nothing happened, Ollivander took the wand away. He seemed unhappy. Then he handed over the other wand he had brought “Beech, unicorn hair, 11 inches, flexible.” This time, the second, Ollivander put it in his hand, he already took it away again.

“Odd, odd,” he mumbled. Shaking his head, he left into the rear part of his shop.

Harry yawned behind Kakashi. He pulled out a stool and sat next to the door. “I see, that might take a while. At least you’re not taking apart the shop.” He chuckled as if in memory. Kakashi looked at him questioningly. “Ah, when I got my wand, I made things explode left and right.”

“Indeed, Mr. Potter” Ollivander said, as he came back to Kakashi, balancing five boxes of wands. “Yours was a much more common reaction.” He shook his head. “Maybe it’s a combination of age and inexperience, with handling a wand,” Ollivander muttered more to himself than to anybody in the room.

He pulled out another wand. This one was of a similar light brown color as the one Kakashi had just held. “Beech again, dragon heart string, 10 ¾ inches, a bit flexible.” Nothing happened.

“Yew, unicorn hair, 9 ½ inches, hard.”

“Vine, phoenix feather, 10 inches, supple.”

“Ebony, unicorn hair, 11 inches, a bit hard.”

Kakashi didn’t know what they wanted from him. Obviously ‘exploding the shop’ wasn’t it, although Kakashi could give them an explosion just to make them happy. Obviously, the utter lack of any reaction was frustrating for Ollivander. He was already chewing on his bottom lip.

“Cypress, dragon heart string, 9 ½ inches, very flexible. No, that’s not it either.” He scratched his head. “One might think he has as little magical talent as a muggle,” he muttered under his breath clearly thinking the two boys wouldn’t hear him as he searched his shelves for more wands.

Although obviously nobody wanted an explosion, Kakashi realized, he should give them some reaction, before Ollivander might figure out that he wasn’t a wizard. So, when Ollivander came back, Kakashi used the short second when Harry looked at the ceiling and Ollivander looked to the new wand in his hand, to form a quick hand sign.

“Cherry, Unicorn hair, 11 inches, hard,” he didn’t even wait for Kakashi to take it anymore but pressed it right in his hand. This time as Kakashi swung it, he released a small lightning jutsu _,_ a single strike hitting a near-bye chair and splitting it in two. Ollivander jumped from shock, obviously having already given up on any form of magical outburst. Harry fell off his stool.

“No, no,” Ollivander said quickly, taking the wand away. “But that’s a first reaction.” Although he was still a little pale from shock, he seemed relieved that at least something had happened. “Here try this. Cedar, dragon heart string, 12 inches.” Nothing happened.

Still not knowing what exactly Ollivander wanted to see, Kakashi decided to just let a few wands pass without making anything happen. Then he cracked the floorboards with a burst of chakra.

“What exactly are we waiting for?” Kakashi asked after another few minutes because this didn’t lead anywhere.

“You’ll see, you’ll see,” Ollivander answered. He had apparently found knew hope, that he might actually succeed to sell a wand to Kakashi, after Kakashi showed at least some magical talent, even if it was in the form of destroying his office furniture.

“Wouldn’t it be—” He was interrupted by the ring of the bell. A witch came inside, looking around the occupants of the room. Her eyes stuck on Harry for a moment, then she quietly sat on a stool next to him.

“Are you waiting too,” she asked Harry, just as Ollivander gave Kakashi the next beech-wand. Nothing happened, and Kakashi gave the wand back, without even waiting for Ollivander to ask for it.

“No, no,” Harry shook his head, “I’m just company.” He nodded at Kakashi who picked up his very first fir-wand. “But it’s taking quite a while.”

“Difficult case?” the witch asked.

Harry nodded.

“I’ll be with you in a moment, Ms. Spinnet,” Ollivander called out to her, taking Kakashi’s fir-wand back from him.

“Spinnet?” Kakashi heard surprise in Harry’s voice. “You aren’t related to Alicia, are you?”

“A second cousin,” Ms. Spinnet said, then she and Harry collectively jumped, when the curtains next to them caught fire.

“Charlie, aim away from us!” Harry yelled out. “Are you mad?”

“Sorry,” Kakashi said quickly, though he had aimed quite purposefully. Ollivander had turned white, when Kakashi almost set his customers on fire. “Maybe Ms. Spinnet should go first,” Kakashi suggested.

Ollivander seemed glad at the suggestion. “If it’s not a problem for you,” he made sure to ask, but he was already pushing Kakashi to one of the stools close to Harry. “Ms. Spinnet, what can I do for you?”

“I fear my wand broke irreparably.” She pulled out a cloth handkerchief from her purse and unfolded a wand that split almost clean through in the middle. “An accident with my broom.”

“Ah a shame. Maple, Unicorn hair, if I remember correctly? 10 inches and quite hard.”

“Yes, Mr. Ollivander.”

Ollivander nodded. “I might still have another one just like it.” He quickly walked down the rows of shelves. “I remember, this unicorn gave me eight… Ah, here. From the same unicorn. Another maple, unicorn hair, 9 ½ inches, a bit flexible.” He handed her the wand but took it back immediately. “No, try this one. Pine, unicorn hair, 12 inches, flexible.”

This time after the witch took the wand, he let her swing it. A flurry of purple sparks came out of the tip. The witch grinned. She flicked the tip of the wand and made the empty wand-box levitate.

“This looks good,” Ollivander said. He asked a few questions about how the wand felt, then 8 Galleons exchanged hands, and Ms. Spinnet left with her new wand. Meanwhile, Kakashi finally knew, what he had to do, to get this little shopping trip over with.

He let four more wands pass through his hands, and cracked another table, before he decided long enough time had passed between Ms. Spinnet’s departure and the next wand put in his hand, that the other occupants in the room, wouldn’t necessarily notice the similarities to the witch’s sparks.

“Dogwood,” Ollivander announced tiredly. “Dragon heart string, 11 inches, supple.”

_Dog_ wood? How fitting, Kakashi thought with a tiny smirk, as he swung the wand before Ollivander could decide to take it out of his hand again. A small fire _jutsu_ and a flurry of orange sparks.

“Finally,” Harry exclaimed, happily clapping his hands together.

Meanwhile, Ollivander looked all but happy. With a frown on his face, he turned to his list of Kakashi’s measurements. “This is highly unlikely,” he muttered, scratching his head. “When where you born, Mr. Major?”

“September 15,” Kakashi gave his real birthday, because why not. When Ollivander looked at him with an inpatient frown, he quickly calculated the year. “1978.”

Ollivander nodded, looking back on his list. “Well, I can’t explain it, but sometimes magic goes the most unexpected ways. Congratulations, Mr. Major, we have found your wand. I fear, the reason for the delay might lay with me. I might have miscalculated. I took you for a much more serious person.”

Kakashi had no idea what he was talking about. “A more serious person?” he asked.

“I took you for a beech type,” Ollivander shook his head. “But apparently that was a waste of time and furniture… Dogwood and dragon heart string would suggest you’re much more playful and mischievous than I thought.” He folded his list, and let it vanish in his long robes. Kakashi didn’t know how to feel about all his physical measurements – and apparently even a character study of him; how accurate that was he didn’t know – just vanishing in the man’s pockets. Then again, he figured nobody here would do him harm based on knowing the length of his nose.

“How much does it cost?” Harry asked. He was clearly getting impatient. No wonder, he’s been sitting around for over an hour.

“9 Galleons.”

Kakashi twirled the wand in his fingers. He didn’t know where to put it. For now, he put it into his pouch, but it was a little too long and half stuck out of it. Maybe, he decided, he could repurpose his leg-pouch that he hadn’t worn, since arriving in his country.

“Thanks,” he said as they left the shop.

“If you want, we can buy you some clothes,” Harry suggested too, pointing at a shop for second-hand cloaks.

“Sure,” Kakashi said, certain that this at least would go much quicker.

As Kakashi already walked up to the shop, Harry had indicated, the other boy’s steps hesitated for a moment. His brows furrowed a little, but then he followed. Kakashi smirked. He knew, Harry was surprised at Kakashi’s willingness to spend Harry’s money, but truth be told, Kakashi had no qualms about it whatsoever. Harry had been right, after all. He’d been running around with the same clothes since he first came to this world. In all his time here, he had only bought a new shirt, and his clothes started to stink. Kakashi might not be bothered by that, during missions, but if he could avoid it, he would.

And Harry had offered so graciously.

Really, the only reason Kakashi had reacted petulant and defiant at first, was because it was expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be honest, who expected Kakashi to be on time for a meeting he chose the time for?  
> Yeah...me neither.
> 
> Some other short aspects about this character:  
> Now, it's official. Kakashi can't use a wand. So it's barely more than an odd accessoire for him. He can fake a lot of magic with his chakra though. The wand he now has therefore doesn't really fit Kakashi. Ollivander is really baffled by that. He's been trying very hard to sell Kakashi a Beech-wand (which would be for somebody who according to the wikia is 'wise beyond their year') or a cedar-wand (for strength of character and unusual loyalty). The Dogwood wand that Kakashi now ended up with was a bit of a srprise for Ollivander. It's a rather mischivous wand. Curiously, I don't think it's completely unfitting... At least it fits to the persona he's been portraying all chapter.
> 
> I enjoyed writing the scene with the ice cream. It reminded me of land of waves Kakashi, who also used sappy words to his teammates to distract Zabuza... Kakashi is a little shit for that. First making Harry feel guilty and then turning on him like that. (Honestly, I should add 'Kakashi is a little shit' to the tags)
> 
> I thought for quite a while about unmasking Kakashi. But then I decided that he'd have to. I don't think Kakashi would have much of an issue with it. In canon he's clealy quite stubborn at wearing the mask, but he doesn't seem to have anxiety over it. In fact in at least two filler episodes he's actively encouraging his students to try and de-mask him. And additionally in Boruto I think there are two scenes, where he takes the mask of to hide as Sukea. In a way this is the same. As part of his desguise he takes off the mask. There's no point of it here, where he would just get attention because of it. Instead of 'hiding' him, it would be a dead giveaway. Which is really not what he needs here. So, now he's only wearing a partial desguise around his eye region (mostly to hide his scar and caracteristic droopy eyes :D) This was a bit of a risky move for him - as he now looks a little different - but I decided that it would be too risky for him to have to uphold the henge flawlessly for weeks. Just dying his hair, wearing contacts, make-up and a partial henge that takes basically no chaka would be easier to pull off long term.  
> Most people i think - especially when they don't know the other person for long - focus on eyes, hairstyle/Facial hair and body shape to identify a person... So since 'Charlie' apart from being a little taller was very similar to Kakashi in stature, since the eyes are still 'Charlie's' and since he's still wearing the same hoodie anyway... Harry missed the more subtle changes around his nose, mouth and jaw...He just thinks it's the new hairstyle...but he does note, that the new hairstyle makes Kakashi a lot more handsome ;)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm always happy to receive feedback.  
> Twitter: [@TCeies](https://twitter.com/tceies)  
> Tumblr: [Ceies](https://ceies.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Other AO3:  
> [Ceies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceies/pseuds/Ceies)


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